cy leaned back in her chair and looked over the rail of the porch.
She had noticed lately a certain restraint in Max's manner which was
new to her. Whether he was beginning to get bored, or whether it was
only one of his moods, she could not decide--even with her acute
knowledge of similar symptoms. That some change, however, had come over
him she had not the slightest doubt. She never had any trouble in
lassoing her admirers. That came with a glance of her eye or a lift of
her pretty shoulders: nor for that matter in keeping possession of them
as long as her mood lasted.

"Whom do you want to see in Philadelphia, Max?" she asked, smiling
roguishly at him. She held him always by presenting her happiest and
most joyous side, whether she felt it or not.

"Sue and Morton--and you, you dear girl, if you'll come along."

"No; I'm not coming along. I'm too comfortable where I am. Is this
woman somebody you haven't told me of, Max?" she persisted, looking at
him from under half-closed lids.

"Your somebodies are always thin air, little girl; you know everything
I have ever done in my whole life," Max answered gravely. She had for
the last two weeks.

Lucy threw up her hands and laughed so loud and cheerily that an
habitue taking his morning constitutional on the boardwalk below turned
his head in their direction. The two were at breakfast under the
awnings of Lucy's portico, Bones standing out of range.

"You don't believe it?"

"Not one word of it, you fraud; nor do you. You've forgotten one-half
of all you've done and the other half you wouldn't dare tell any woman.
Come, give me her name. Anybody Sue knows?"

"Nobody that anybody knows, Honest John." Then he added as an
after-thought, "Are you sorry?" As he spoke he rose from his seat and
stood behind her chair looking down over her figure. She had her back
to him. He thought he had never seen her look so lovely. She was
wearing a light-blue morning-gown, her arms bare to the elbows, and a
wide Leghorn hat--the morning costume of all others he liked her best
in.

"No--don't think I am," she answered lightly. "Fact is I was getting
pretty tired of you. How long will you be gone?"

"Oh, I think till the end of the week--not longer." He reached over the
chair and was about to play with the tiny curls that lay under the coil
of her hair, when he checked himself and straightened up. One of those
sudden restraints which had so puzzled Lucy had seized him. She could
n