face. He sprang to the
table and seized the envelope.

"Feeling better?" said Snorky, noting the beneficial results.

"Much."

"You look ten years younger."

"You go to blazes!" said Skippy, but without anger. He went to the bed
and flinging back the mattress uncovered three pairs of trousers slowly
hardening into that razor edge which is the _sine qua non_ of a man of
fashion. Apparently satisfied, he next proceeded to the mirror, where,
after a short inspection, he seized his brushes, dipped them into the
water pitcher and laboriously began to reconstruct the perfect part that
was beginning to replace the Skippy cowlick. Trousers may be brought to
order in a few minutes, but to subdue a cowlick is a matter of years.
Ten minutes' rigorous application of the brushes failing to produce
results, he ducked into the washbasin, drove a line with the comb,
slicked down the sides and applied a press, in the form of a derby,
which process will subdue the most recalcitrant of cowlicks for at least
two hours.

"Aha! Object matrimony?" said a squeaky voice.

Skippy looked up wrathfully to perceive the curious eyes of Dennis de
Brian de Boru gazing from the transom. Both brushes went flying across
the room, but Dennis knew when his presence was _de trop_. The episode
shook off the derby and deranged the part. Snorky watched the process of
reconstruction with a meditative glance.

"Skippy, old horse, you are _so_ spick and span. Has love really come to
you?"

"You go take a run and jump," said Skippy lightly and he began to
whistle a genial air.

Now if Bedelle had denied the direct accusation, Snorky would have been
certain of its truth, vice versa if the answer had been broadly
affirmative, Snorky would have at once dismissed the suspicion. Skippy's
light, _de haut en bas_ manner left him unconvinced. Circumstantial
evidence was all he had to go on, but the evidence was strong. Skippy
undeniably was a changed man.

"What day is it?" said Skippy, who had been reading over the letter.

"Wednesday, you chump."

"Three days to Saturday," said Skippy with a sigh. He went to the
washstand, poured out the water and began to scrub diligently at his
nails.

"Well, you ought to get them clean by that time," said Skippy
facetiously.

"What's that?"

"So you are in love?" said Snorky, shifting the conversation.

"What makes you think so?"

"Go ahead, open your heart, what's a roommate for?"

"You'd be a nice one to c