"There's something in _that_, now!" cried his interlocutor, with an odd
Celtic lilt which sometimes invaded his speech; "but she _has_ an
immortal soul, and I'm by no means sure that yours is still inside you."

The Judge stood up, brushed the crumbs of his stolen feast from his
well-fitting broadcloth, and smiled down indulgently at the unquiet
little doctor. "She's all right, Melton, the American woman, and you're
an unconscionably tiresome old fanatic. That's what _you_ are! Come
along and have a glass of punch with me. Lydia's cook has a genius for
punch--and for sandwiches!" he added reflectively, setting down the
empty platter.

Dr. Melton apparently was off on another tangent of excitability. "Did
you ever see her?" he demanded with a fiercely significant accent.

The Judge made a humorous wry mouth. "Yes, I have; but what concern is a
cook's moral character to her employer any more than an engineer's to
the railroad--"

"Well, it mightn't hurt the railroad any if it took more cognizance of
its engineers' morals--" began the doctor dryly.

The Judge cut him short with a great laugh. "Oh, Melton! Melton! You
bilious sophomore! Take a vacation from finding everything so damn
tragic. Take a drink on me. You're all right! Everybody's all right!"

The doctor nodded. "And the reception is the success of the season," he
said.

CHAPTER XX

AN EVENING'S ENTERTAINMENT

The dinner parties, so Paul told Lydia one evening a few days later,
would certainly be as successful and with but little more trouble. "Just
think of the dinners Ellen's been giving us for the last two months! I
don't believe there's another such cook in Ohio--within our purse, of
course."

Lydia did not visibly respond to this enthusiasm. Indeed, she walked
away from the last half of it, and leaned out of a window to look up at
the stars. When she came back to take up the tiny dress on which she was
sewing, she said: "I don't think I can stand more than this one dinner
party, Paul. I'm sorry, but I don't feel at all well, and this dreadful
nausea troubles me a good deal."

"Well, you look lovelier than ever before in your life," Paul reassured
her tenderly, and felt a moment's pique that her face did not entirely
clear at this all-important announcement. "Come, let's go over to the
Derby's for a game of bridge, will you, Lydia?"

This conversation took place on a Tuesday late in May. The dinner party
was set for Thursday. On Wednesd