th a kiss and a compliment and a box of candy
and any old lie and a speech about sympathy and all that, a nice
sensible wife will forgive and forget--and adore him."

[Illustration: "THAT Greek god has been staring as if he contemplated
murder." _Page 28_]

"But are there any nice sensible wives?" asked the bachelor plaintively.

"Have you finished your cigarette, Mr. Travers?" inquired the widow
coolly.

"Because if there are, that is just what I am looking----"

"If you have," pursued the widow, "I think we had better go."

The bachelor rose with alacrity. "I think so, too," he acquiesced,
pleasantly. "That Greek god over yonder under the palm has been
staring at me as if he contemplated murder for the last half hour."

The widow blushed.

"Perhaps," she said with a one-cornered smile, "he is envying you----"

"Undoubtedly!" agreed the bachelor.

"Envying you," pursued the widow, "your fascinating ways."

"Oh," cried the bachelor, "then I have got it."

"What?" said the widow.

"The winning card. The charm!"

"Well," said the widow, putting her head on the side and gazing at him
speculatively, "you wear a derby hat."

"I take it off in the house and in the presence of ladies," protested
the bachelor.

"And your shoulders----" began the widow.

"They are my own!" declared the bachelor.

"And your----"

"They also are mine," broke in the bachelor quickly.

"And besides all that," added the widow, "you have that little bald spot
in the middle of your head. And yet----"

"Go on," said the bachelor, "you have said the worst."

"I broke an engagement with a nice boy to dine with you to-night."

"That doesn't prove anything," said the bachelor scornfully. "Maybe he
hasn't played the winning card."

"No, it proves you have," declared the widow.

"I can't see it!" protested the bachelor.

"Well, just look at the Greek god over under the palm and then look in
the glass at yourself and--work it out."

"But why look at the Greek god?"

"Because," said the widow, turning to the mirror and carefully tilting
her hat, "he is the nice boy with whom I broke the engagement."

III

WHY?

"WHY is a woman?" snapped the bachelor, flinging himself into the big
armchair opposite the widow with a challenging glance.

"Why--why, because," stammered the widow; startled at his sudden
appearance.

"I knew it!" said the bachelor with conviction.

"And there are lots of other reasons, Mr. Travers.