comes from buttons."

"Oh!" feebly.

"It's an old business," he went on, with something of proprietary pride.
"My grandfather founded it in 1775. Made buttons for the Continental
Army."

"Oh, yes," I said. "They melted the buttons to make bullets, didn't
they? Or they melted bullets to make buttons? Which was it?"

But again he interrupted.

"It's like this," he went on hurriedly. "Aunt Selina believes in me. She
likes pictures, and she wanted me to paint, if I could. I'd have given
up long ago--oh, I know what you think of my work--but for Aunt Selina.
She has encouraged me, and she's done more than that; she's paid the
bills."

"Dear Aunt Selina," I breathed.

"When I got married," Jim persisted, "Aunt Selina doubled my allowance.
I always expected to sell something, and begin to make money, and in
the meantime what she advanced I considered as a loan." He was eyeing me
defiantly, but I was growing serious. It was evident from the preamble
that something was coming.

"To understand, Kit," he went on dubiously, "you would have to know her.
She won't stand for divorce. She thinks it is a crime."

"What!" I sat up. I have always regarded divorce as essentially
disagreeable, like castor oil, but necessary.

"Oh, you know well enough what I'm driving at," he burst out savagely.
"She doesn't know Bella has gone. She thinks I am living in a little
domestic heaven, and--she is coming tonight to hear me flap my wings."

"Tonight!"

I don't think Jimmy had known that Dallas Brown had come in and was
listening. I am sure I had not. Hearing his chuckle at the doorway
brought us up with a jerk.

"Where has Aunt Selina been for the last two or three years?" he asked
easily.

Jim turned, and his face brightened.

"Europe. Look here, Dal, you're a smart chap. She'll only be here about
four hours. Can't you think of some way to get me out of this? I want to
let her down easy, too. I'm mighty fond of Aunt Selina. Can't we--can't
I say Bella has a headache?"

"Rotten!" laconically.

"Gone out of town?" Jim was desperate.

"And you with a houseful of dinner guests! Try again, Jim."

"I have it," Jim said suddenly. "Dallas, ask Anne if she won't play
hostess for tonight. Be Mrs. Wilson pro tem. Anne would love it. Aunt
Selina never saw Bella. Then, afterward, next year, when I'm hung in
the Academy and can stand on my feet"--("Not if you're hung," Dallas
interjected.)--"I'll break the truth to her."

But Dalla