rds him
in open and unmistakable invitation.

In a moment it was over somehow, and she was saying:

"Morris, how thin you look, and there are great black lines under your
eyes! Uncle, what have you been doing to him?"

"When I have had the pleasure of saying, How-do-you-do to you, my dear,"
he replied in a somewhat offended voice--for the Colonel was not fond
of being overlooked, even in favour of an interesting son--"I shall be
happy to do my best to answer your question."

"Oh! I am so sorry," she said, advancing her forehead to be kissed; "but
we saw each other the other day, didn't we, and one can't embrace two
people at once, and of course one must begin somewhere. But, why have
you made him so thin?"

The Colonel surveyed Morris critically with his eyeglass.

"Really, my dear Mary," he replied, "I am not responsible for the
variations in my son's habit of body." Then, as Morris turned away
irritably, he added in a stage whisper, "He's been a bit upset, poor
fellow! He felt your father's death dreadfully."

Mary winced a little, then, recovering her vivacity, said:

"Well, at any rate, uncle, I am glad to see that nothing of the sort has
affected your health; I never saw you looking better."

"Ah! my dear, as we grow older we learn resignation----"

"And how to look after ourselves," thought Mary.

At that moment dinner was announced, and she went in on Morris's arm,
the Colonel gallantly insisting that it should be so. After this things
progressed a good deal better. The first plunge was over, and the cool
refreshing waters of Mary's conversation seemed to give back to Morris's
system some of the tone that it had lost. Also, when he thought fit to
use it, he had a strong will, and he thought fit this night. Lastly,
like many a man in a quandary before him, he discovered the strange
advantages of a scientific but liberal absorption of champagne. Mary
noticed this as she noticed everything, and said presently with her eyes
wide open:

"Might I ask, my dear, if you are--ill? You are eating next to nothing,
and that's your fourth large glass of champagne--you who never drank
more than two. Don't you remember how it used to vex my poor dad,
because he said that it always meant half a bottle wasted, and a
temptation to the cook?"

Morris laughed--he was able to laugh by now--and replied, as it
happened, with perfect truth, that he had an awful toothache.

"Then everything is explained," said Mary. "Did