ning. And before he had taken off his coat
the Yale professor--a man of deep learning and scholarly
attainments--joined the party.

Bessie played on; and the four elders stood in a huddled but silent
and amazed group, listening to the music and waiting for the sound
of the dinner gong.

Mr. Bostwick, who was hungry, picked up the bonbon dish that lay on
the table beside him and ate the pink confection. The professor was
watching him, so Mr. Bostwick courteously held the dish toward him.
The professor ate the lemon-yellow piece and the senator reached out
his hand and took the lavender piece. He did not eat it, however,
for, chancing to remember that it might spoil his dinner, he put it
in his vest pocket. Mrs. Bostwick, still intently listening to her
precocious daughter, without thinking what she did, took the
remaining piece, which was the white one, and slowly devoured it.

The dish was now empty, and Claribel Sudds' precious bonbons had
passed from her possession forever!

Suddenly Mr. Bostwick, who was a big man, began to sing in a shrill,
tremolo soprano voice. It was not the same song Bessie was playing,
and the discord was shocking that the professor smiled, the senator
put his hands to his ears and Mrs. Bostwick cried in a horrified
voice:

"William!"

Her husband continued to sing as if endeavoring to emulate the
famous Christine Nillson, and paid no attention whatever to his wife
or his guests.

Fortunately the dinner gong now sounded, and Mrs. Bostwick dragged
Bessie from the piano and ushered her guests into the dining-room.
Mr. Bostwick followed, singing "The Last Rose of Summer" as if it
had been an encore demanded by a thousand delighted hearers.

The poor woman was in despair at witnessing her husband's
undignified actions and wondered what she might do to control him.
The professor seemed more grave than usual; the senator's face wore
an offended expression, and Bessie kept moving her fingers as if she
still wanted to play the piano.

Mrs. Bostwick managed to get them all seated, although her husband
had broken into another aria; and then the maid brought in the soup.

When she carried a plate to the professor, he cried, in an excited
voice:

"Hold it higher! Higher--I say!" And springing up he gave it a
sudden kick that sent it nearly to the ceiling, from whence the dish
descended to scatter soup over Bessie and the maid and to smash in
pieces upon the crown of the professor's bald hea