her hand. He
came back directly, saying, "No, he didn't find it."

She laughed, and held both gloves up. "No wonder! I had it all the time.
Thank you ever so much."

"How are we going to ride back?" asked Stoller.

Burnamy almost turned pale; Miss Triscoe smiled impenetrably. No one else
spoke, and Mrs. March said, with placid authority, "Oh, I think the way
we came, is best."

"Did that absurd creature," she apostrophized her husband as soon as she
got him alone after their arrival at Pupp's, "think I was going to let
him drive back with Agatha?"

"I wonder," said March, "if that's what Burnamy calls her now?"

"I shall despise him if it isn't."

XXXVII.

Burnamy took up his mail to Stoller after the supper which they had eaten
in a silence natural with two men who have been off on a picnic together.
He did not rise from his writing-desk when Burnamy came in, and the young
man did not sit down after putting his letters before him. He said, with
an effort of forcing himself to speak at once, "I have looked through the
papers, and there is something that I think you ought to see."

"What do you mean?" said Stoller.

Burnamy laid down three or four papers opened to pages where certain
articles were strongly circumscribed in ink. The papers varied, but their
editorials did not, in purport at least. Some were grave and some were
gay; one indignantly denounced; another affected an ironical
bewilderment; the third simply had fun with the Hon. Jacob Stoller. They
all, however, treated his letter on the city government of Carlsbad as
the praise of municipal socialism, and the paper which had fun with him
gleefully congratulated the dangerous classes on the accession of the
Honorable Jacob to their ranks.

Stoller read the articles, one after another, with parted lips and
gathering drops of perspiration on his upper lip, while Burnamy waited on
foot. He flung the papers all down at last. "Why, they're a pack of
fools! They don't know what they're talking about! I want city government
carried on on business principles, by the people, for the people. I don't
care what they say! I know I'm right, and I'm going ahead on this line if
it takes all--" The note of defiance died out of his voice at the sight
of Burnamy's pale face. "What's the matter with you?"

"There's nothing the matter with me."

"Do you mean to tell me it is"--he could not bring himself to use the
word--"what they say?"

"I suppose," said Bu