when Molly heard of it she asserted that she had no doubt it
would have been a pleasant dinner, but that nothing could have induced
her to go. She never wished to see Dr. Bliss again--not even
professionally. Mrs. Upton was gradually becoming utterly discouraged.
The only hopeful feature of the situation was that there were no
"alternates" involved. Bliss was done forever with woman; Miss Meeker
had never cared for any man but Walter. Time passed, and the lovers were
adamant in their determination never to see each other again. Repeated
efforts to bring them together failed, until Mrs. Upton was in despair.
It is always darkest, however, just before dawn, and it finally happened
that just as hopelessness was beginning to take hold of Mrs. Upton's
heart her great device came to her.

IV

THE DEVICE

"Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
And all went merry as a marriage bell."
--_Childe Harold_.

"Henry," said Mrs. Upton, one cold January morning, a great light of
possibilities dawning upon her troubled soul, "don't you want to take me
to the opera next Saturday? Calve is to sing in 'Cavalleria,' and I am
very anxious to hear her again."

"I am sorry, but I can't," Upton answered. "I have an engagement with
Bliss at the club on Saturday. We're going to take lunch and finish up
our billiard tournament. I've got a lead of forty points."

"Oh! Well, then, get me two seats, and I'll take Molly," said the astute
match-maker. "And never mind about their being aisle seats. I prefer
them in the middle of the row, so that everybody won't be climbing over
us when they go out and in."

"All right; I will," said Henry, and the seats were duly procured.

Saturday came, and Upton went to the club, according to his appointment
with Walter; but Bliss was not there, nor had he sent any message of
explanation. Upton waited until three o'clock, and still the doctor came
not; and finally he left the club and sauntered up the Avenue to his
house, calling down the while imprecations upon the absent Walter.

"Hang these doctors!" he said, viciously. "They seem to think
professional engagements are the only ones worth keeping. Off in his
game, I fancy. That's the milk in the cocoanut."

Five minutes later he entered his library, and was astonished to see
Mrs. Upton there reading.

"Why, hullo! You here?" he said. "I thought you were at the opera."

"No, I didn't go," Mrs. Upton replied, with a smile.

"There seems to b