ed, he knew not
how, the voice of the queen of all her kind. Another pair pressed
forward to add their salutations. They were Zosephine and the
surveyor.

Because the facilities for entertaining a male visitor were slender at
the Women's Exchange, because there was hope of more and cooler air at
the lake-side, because Spanish Fort was a pretty and romantic spot and
not so apt to be thronged as West End, and because Marguerite, as she
described it, was tired of houses and streets, and also because he had
something to say to Zosephine, Mr. Tarbox had brought the pretty
mother and daughter out here. The engineer had met the three by chance
only a few minutes before, and now as the bridge closed again he
passed Zosephine over to Claude, walked only a little way with them
down a path among the shrubbery, and then lifted his hat and withdrew.

For once in his life Mr. G. W. Tarbox, as he walked with Marguerite
in advance of Claude and her mother, was at a loss what to say. The
drollness of the situation was in danger of overcoming him again.
Behind him was Claude, his mind tossed on a wild sea of doubts and
suspicions.

"I told him," thought Tarbox, while the girl on his arm talked on in
pretty, broken English and sprightly haste about something he had lost
the drift of--"I told him I was courting Josephine. But I never proved
it to him. And now just look at this! Look at the whole sweet mess!
Something has got to be done." He did not mean something direct and
openhanded; that would never have occurred to him. He stopped, and
with Marguerite faced the other pair. One glance into Claude's face,
darkened with perplexity, anger, and a distressful effort to look
amiable and comfortable, was one too many; Tarbox burst into a laugh.

"Pardon!" he exclaimed, checking himself until he was red; "I just
happened to think of something very funny that happened last week in
Arkansas--Madame Beausoleil, I know it must look odd,"--his voice
still trembled a little, but he kept a sober face--"and yet I must
take just a moment for business. Claude, can I see you?"

They went a step aside. Mr. Tarbox put on a business frown, and said
to Claude in a low voice,--

"Hi! diddle, diddle, the cat and the fiddle, the cow jumped over the
moon the little dog laughed to see the sport and the dish ran away
with the spoon you understand I'm simply talking for talk's sake as
we resume our walk we'll inadvertently change partners--a kind of
Women's