he didn't come back to apologize or
anything like that. And the next we heard was that the happy pair had
started for Florida on their honeymoon.

Well, that seemed to finish the incident. Mr. Robert hunches his
shoulders and allows that Babe is old enough to manage his own affairs.
Sister Mabel calmed down, and the disappointed young ladies crossed Babe
off the last-hope list. Besides, a perfectly good scandal broke out in
the bridge playing and dancing set, and Babe Cutler's rapid little
romance was forgotten. Five or six Sundays came and went, with Mondays
following regular.

And then here the other afternoon, as I'm camped down next to the car
window on my way home, who should tap me on the shoulder but the same
old Babe. That is, unless you looked close. For there's a worried,
puzzled look in his wide set eyes and he don't spring the usual hail.

"Hello!" says I. "Ain't lost your baggage checks, have you?"

"It's worse than that," says he. "I--I've lost--Lucy."

"Wha-a-t!" says I, gaspy. "You don't mean she--she's----"

"No," says Babe. "She's just quit me and gone home."

"But--but why?" I blurted out.

"Lord knows," groans Babe. "That's what I want to find out."

Honest, it listens like a first-class mystery. According to him they'd
been staying at one of the swellest joints he could find in the whole
state of Florida. Also he'd bought Lucy all the kinds of clothes she
would let him buy, from sport suits to evening gowns. She'd taken up a
lot of different things, too--golf, riding, swimming, dancing. Seemed to
be having a bully time when--bang! She breaks out into a weepy spell and
announces that she is going home. Does it, too, all by her lonesome,
leaving Babe to trail along by the next train.

"And for the life of me, Torchy," he declares, "I can't imagine why."

"Well, let's try to piece it out," says I. "First off, how have you been
spending your honeymoon?"

"Oh, golf mostly," says he. "I was runner up in the big tournament."

"I see," says I. "Thirty-six holes a day, eh?"

He nods.

"And a jack-pot session with the old crowd every evening?" I asks.

"Oh, only now and then," says he.

"With a few late parties down in the grill?" I goes on.

"Not a party," says Babe. "State's dry, you know. No, generally we went
into the ballroom evenings and I helped Lucy try out the new steps she
was learning."

"You did!" says I. "Then I give it up."

"Me too," says Babe. "But I'm not going to give