nt in his way and a good deal of a linguist.

But he was not working just at this moment.

At the enormous desk between the two long windows at the end of the
room opposite the fireplace, he was reading a detective story and
playing with a bronze paper cutter at the same time, banging it up and
down on the desk.

Ross loved detective stories as much as any boy who has ever thrilled
over them, and Elinor loved to watch him read them. She stood still in
the doorway for a moment and watched him now. She could tell by his
changing expression just when the story he was reading was sad, just
when it was merry, just when the meaning was hard to understand, and
just when he began to dislike the way things were working out, almost
as well as if he read it aloud to her.

The paper cutter poised in the air for just a second, and his eyebrows
drew together in a little puzzled frown. Evidently, things were going
badly. Then the paper cutter came down on the desk with a swoop, and
his whole face lighted.

Elinor crossed the room with her swift, graceful movement, and kissed
him lightly on the tiny bald spot on the very top of his head, which he
insisted was being widened by "financial worries."

"Ross, Clay is waiting."

He gave her an absentminded squeezing of the hand nearest him by way of
answer without lifting his eyes from his book.

She leaned over and covered the page with one hand.

"Oh, come now," he remonstrated, "that's not a bit fair! That's the
most interesting place for pages and pages!"

"That may be, you infant, but you must stop right there. Clay is
waiting for you."

"What for, please? I don't remember telling him I wanted him!"

"Ross Worthington! Have you actually forgotten Arethusa is coming this
afternoon!"

Ross returned, with the most commendable suddenness, from the Long
Island country place, scene of his sojourn for the last few hours where
a most fearful and intricately involved crime had been committed, to
things which were happening in Lewisburg.

"Ye gods! And I had!"

"You ought to be ashamed to admit it!"

"I don't see why you say that," his air was one of mild protest. "You
remembered her, didn't you? And that's what a wife's for, anyway, one
of the things, to remember what her husband ought to. What's the use of
having one if...."

But Elinor hurried him into the hall without allowing him to finish
this speech, thrust his coat and hat forcibly upon him, and propelled
him on tow