ng Planchet and
Company, returns to the grocer with the bags of English gold which,
for several good reasons, Charles Second has given him for General
Monk's sword. He was well along toward the fainting of the honest
Planchet on the money-bags, when the telephone rang. He took up the
receiver.

"Well?"

"Mama wants you to come over and spend the night with us. John and
Kate will be here, too."

He recognized Patty's voice.

"I shall be very glad to," he replied. "Good-by." He rang for Mary,
who came in, her eyes red and swollen; Poor soul, she had also lost
her best friend. "I am going over to the Benningtons' to spend the
night, Mary.

"Very well, sir; just as you think best."

The Benningtons were very kind to him. They engaged his interest the
moment he entered the house. They talked of a thousand and one things
diverting: the foreign news, the political outlook, the September
horse-show at which Patty would ride and jump, what was contemplated
in society for the fall and winter, the ice-carnival, and the
engagements.

"Why don't you enter your Irish hunter?" asked John, when the talk
veered around to horses again.

"I ride for the mere pleasure of it," replied Warrington; "or, if you
will, I'm too lazy to learn the judges' catechism."

Presently they had him telling how he had written his first play, and
how completely Mrs. Jack had fooled him on their first meeting.

"No, I have not the slightest desire to return to the stage," said
Mrs. Jack, in answer to a casual inquiry made by Warrington.

"Not while I'm around," supplemented John.

"Why, nothing could lure me back to it," Mrs. Jack declared
emphatically. "I am happy. I am very happy. I have nothing to wish
for, save that my happiness may endure."

Mrs. Bennington, who had long since grown to love her daughter-in-law,
smiled benignly.

"You will always be happy, my dear; you were born to be. It is the
just reward for making those around you happy."

"Patty," said Warrington, "would you like the Angora?"

"I should love it dearly."

"Then I'll send it over to you in the morning."

And that was as near as they approached the subject they were tacitly
avoiding.

At a quarter of nine, to the consternation of every one, Mrs.
Franklyn-Haldene was announced.

"Take me up stairs to the billiard-room," said Warrington; "I am not
in the mood to meet that woman to-night."

"Come on, then," cried John, willing enough. "There's the servants'
s