the curious to offer
the abstainer drink. The Massachusetts Bachelor Women advertise their
membership of the Federation, just to see if there is any man around who
will induce 'em to resign."

"Is Aunt Julie pleased?" asked Netty.

"Almighty," was the brief reply. "And she will accept it. She will
marry the paid secretary. They have a paid secretary. President usually
marries him. He is not a bachelor-woman. They're mostly worms--the men
that help women to make fools of themselves."

This was very strong language for Uncle Joseph, who usually seemed
to have a latent admiration for his gifted sister's greatness. Netty
suspected that he was angry, or put out by something else, and made the
Massachusetts Women Bachelors bear the brunt of his displeasure.

"She is a masterful woman is Aunt Jooly," he said; "she'll give him his
choice between dismissal and--and earthly paradise."

Netty laughed soothingly, and glanced up at him again. He was walking
along with huge, lanky strides, much more hurriedly than he was aware
of. His head was thrust forward, and his chin went first as if to push a
way through a crowded world.

And it was borne in upon Netty that Uncle Joseph had received some
order; that he was pluming his ragged old wings for flight.

XXXIII

THIN ICE

It was not yet mid-day when Paul Deulin called at the Bukaty Palace.

"Is the prince in?" he asked. "Is he busy?" he added, when the servant
had stood back with a gesture inviting him to enter. But the man only
shrugged his shoulders with a smile. The prince, it appeared, was never
busy. Deulin found him, in fact, in an arm-chair in his study, reading a
German newspaper.

The prince looked at him over the folded sheet. They had known each
other since boyhood, and could read perhaps more in each other's
wrinkled and drawn faces than the eyes of a younger generation were able
to perceive. The prince pointed to the vacant arm-chair at the other
side of the fireplace. Deulin took the chair with that leisureliness of
movement and demeanor of which Lady Orlay, and Cartoner, and others
who were intimate with him, knew the inner meaning. His eyes were oddly
bright.

They waited until the servant had closed the door behind him, and even
then they did not speak at once, but sat looking at each other in the
glow of the wood-fire. Then Deulin shrugged his shoulders, and made,
with both hands outspread, a gesture indicative of infinite pity.

"Do you know?