ntenance was no less striking than that of
her entertainers. She too put down her coffee-cup, but with a look of
distinct annoyance: she too wore, for a brief moment, what Mrs. Roby
afterward described as the look of feeling for something in the back
of her head; and before she could dissemble these momentary signs of
weakness, Mrs. Roby, turning to her with a deferential smile, had said:
"And we've been so hoping that to-day you would tell us just what you
think of it."

Osric Dane received the homage of the smile as a matter of course; but
the accompanying question obviously embarrassed her, and it became clear
to her observers that she was not quick at shifting her facial scenery.
It was as though her countenance had so long been set in an expression
of unchallenged superiority that the muscles had stiffened, and refused
to obey her orders.

"Xingu--" she murmured, as if seeking in her turn to gain time.

Mrs. Roby continued to press her. "Knowing how engrossing the subject
is, you will understand how it happens that the Club has let everything
else go to the wall for the moment. Since we took up Xingu I might
almost say--were it not for your books--that nothing else seems to us
worth remembering."

Osric Dane's stern features were darkened rather than lit up by an
uneasy smile. "I am glad to hear there is one exception," she gave out
between narrowed lips.

"Oh, of course," Mrs. Roby said prettily; "but as you have shown us
that--so very naturally!--you don't care to talk about your own things,
we really can't let you off from telling us exactly what you think about
Xingu; especially," she added, with a persuasive smile, "as some people
say that one of your last books was simply saturated with it."

It was an IT, then--the assurance sped like fire through the parched
minds of the other members. In their eagerness to gain the least
little clue to Xingu they almost forgot the joy of assisting at the
discomfiture of Mrs. Dane.

The latter reddened nervously under her antagonist's direct assault.
"May I ask," she faltered out in an embarrassed tone, "to which of my
books you refer?"

Mrs. Roby did not falter. "That's just what I want you to tell us;
because, though I was present, I didn't actually take part."

"Present at what?" Mrs. Dane took her up; and for an instant the
trembling members of the Lunch Club thought that the champion Providence
had raised up for them had lost a point. But Mrs. Roby explained