's
phrase for the situation was, "I let Madrina alone, and she don't
bother me." But now, seeing that neither the facade of Rouen, nor the
influence of Chardin on Whistler, had been mentioned, his unusual
loquacity continued. "Well, if one west wind (I don't mean that as a
slam on Sylvia for coming from west of the Mississippi) has done us so
much good, why not have another?" he inquired. "Why couldn't Judith
come on and make us a visit too? It would be fun to have a scrap with
her again." He explained to Morrison: "She's Sylvia's younger sister,
and we always quarreled so, as kids, that after we'd been together
half an hour the referee had to shoulder in between and tell us, 'Nix
on biting in clinches.' She was great, all right, Judith was! How _is_
she now?" he asked Sylvia. "I've been meaning ever so many times to
ask you about her, and something else has seemed to come up. I can't
imagine Judy grown up. She hasn't pinned up that great long braid, has
she, that used to be so handy to pull?"

Sylvia took the last of her soup, put the spoon on the plate, and
launched into a description of Judith, one of her favorite topics.
"Oh, Judith's just _fine_! You ought to see her! She's worth ten
of me: she has such lots of character! And handsome! You never saw
anything like Judith's looks. Yes, she's put her hair up! She's twenty
years old now, what do you _suppose_ she does with her hair? She wears
it in a great smooth braid all around her head. And she has _such_
hair, Aunt Victoria!" She turned from Arnold to another woman, as from
some one who would know nothing of the fine shades of the subject. "No
short hairs at all, you know, like everybody else, that _will_ hang
down and look untidy!" She pulled with an explanatory petulance at the
soft curls which framed her own face in an aureole of light. "Hers is
all long and smooth, and the color like a fresh chestnut, just out
of the burr; and her nose is like a Greek statue--she _is_ a Greek
statue!"

She had been carried by her affectionate enthusiasm out of her usual
self-possession, her quick divination of how she was affecting
everybody, and now, suddenly finding Morrison's eyes on her with an
expression she did not recognize, she was brought up short. What had
she said to make him look at her so oddly?

He answered her unspoken question at once, his voice making his every
casual word of gold: "I am thinking that I am being present at a
spectacle which cynics say is im