ich the others had gathered.

Burleson said: "There's something honest and solid about it, anyway;
hanged if there isn't."

"Like a hen," suggested Ogilvy, absently.

"Like a hen?" repeated Burleson. "What in hell has a hen got to do with
the subject?"

"Like _you_, then, John," said Annan, "honest, solid, but totally
unacquainted with the finer phases of contemporary humour--"

"I'm as humorous as anybody!" roared Burleson.

"Sure you are, John--just as humorously contemporaneous as anybody of
our anachronistic era," said Ogilvy, soothingly. "You're right; there's
nothing funny about a hen."

"And here's a highball for you, John," said Neville, concocting a huge
one on the sideboard.

"And here are two charming ladies for you, John," added Sam, as Valerie
and Rita Tevis entered the open door and mockingly curtsied to the
company.

"We've dissected _your_ character," observed Annan to Valerie, pointing
to her portrait. "We know all about you now; Sam was the professor who
lectured on you, but you can blame Kelly for turning on the
searchlight."

"What search-light?" she asked, pivotting from Neville's greeting,
letting her gloved hand linger in his for just a second longer than
convention required.

"Harry means that portrait of you I started last year," said Neville,
vexed. "He pretends to find it full of psychological subtleties."

"Do you?" inquired Valerie. "Have you discovered anything horrid in my
character?"

"I haven't finished looking for the character yet," said Sam with an
impudent grin. "When I find it I'll investigate it."

"Sam! Come here!"

He came carefully, wincing when she took him by the generous lobes of
both ears.

"Now _what_ did you say?"

"Help!" he murmured, contritely; "will no kind wayfarer aid me?"

"Answer me!"

"I only said you were beautifully decorative but intellectually
impulsive--"

"No, answer me, Sam!"

"Ouch! _I_ said you had a pair of baby eyes and an obstinate mouth and
an immature mind that came to, conclusions before facts were properly
assimilated. In other words I intimated that you were afflicted with
incurable femininity and extreme youth," he added with satisfaction,
"and if you tweak my ears again I'll kiss you!"

She let him go with a last disdainful tweak, gracefully escaping his
charge and taking refuge behind Neville who was mixing another highball
for Annan.

"This is a dignified episode," observed Neville, threatening Ogilvy with
the