all but Brenton, were well enough
accustomed to the doctor to await the finish of the interview with no
small degree of interest. Brenton felt the pause and reddened a little,
more in marital self-consciousness than from any specific sense of
conjugal alarm. Indeed, the only two unconscious ones about the table
were the two protagonists: Catia and the absent-minded doctor, neither
of whom appeared to be in the least aware of any pause in the general
talk.

"Nothing at all," Catia told him suavely. "It was only that I
wanted--"

Again there came the instant's hesitation. Again the doctor employed
that instant in a frenzied search about the table to discover and make
good the missing need. This time, though, his success was better. It
was with a sigh of unmistakable relief that his fingers shut upon the
salt. His gesture crossed the final words of Catia who had resumed her
broken phrase, now rounding to a satisfactory conclusion.

"--So much to meet you, Doctor Keltridge. Ever since I heard of you,"
her eyes looked smilingly into his keen ones which now, a little bit
inscrutable, were studying her intently from beneath their bushy brows;
"I have told Scott that I felt quite certain that we should find out we
had any number of tastes in common."

This time, the pause was not of Catia's making. The doctor let it
lengthen while, to all of his old friends about the table, it was plain
that the motors of his ego now were working at full speed. Meanwhile,
his keen old eyes were still resting upon Catia's up-raised face, and
in them was the same look an aged sheepdog might bestow upon a youthful
terrier puppy. Then a smile broke over the keen face, and the stern
eyes lighted, as the doctor spoke.

"I surely hope so, Mrs. Brenton," he answered her benignantly. "As you
see, I like horse radish with my oysters. How is it about you?"

CHAPTER TEN

It was not until a good two weeks later that Olive Keltridge came into
any actual contact with the new rector. At the Dennison dinner, she had
been too busy in dodging the conversational assaults of the rector's
lady to pay any great amount of attention to the rector himself. Since
that time, she had viewed Brenton only with the height of the chancel
steps between them. However, Olive was conscious that the man
interested her, even at that distance; and it was with some degree of
impatience that she confessed her interest to young Dolph Dennison who,
as a rule, was her sa