pleasantries; railed openly at
Clinton Frost's being so unresponsive to the general mirth around him;
shivered visibly at that gentleman's icy retorts; playfully called
attention to his wife's endeavors to frown him into silence; and, in spite
of Sallie's angry glances, really saved her dinner from proving a dismal
failure. Indeed, the cases were too real, and too much genuine misery was
concealed behind impassive faces, not to prove a dangerous situation, the
tension of which was relieved by Brian's extravagant nonsense. Percival
and Norris Whitehouse were sincerely amused by the wit in which Brian
clothed his droll remarks. But the greatest misfortune of the dinner-giver
was realized in Frank Mayo, the man who thinks he can tell a good story.
The Mayos were so new to all of us that this peculiarity was not suspected
until Brian discovered it and dragged it forth. He persuaded Frank to
talk, listened with absorbing interest to the flattest tales, encouraged
him if he flagged, and laughed until the tears came if he by chance forgot
or slurred a point.

However, no one seemed to think that there was anything seriously amiss
except Sallie, who is a human barometer when she has guests. She knows by
instinct when they are or are not being entertained. Nor was her tact at
fault in seating the people, for I was the only one laden with almost
unbearable knowledge, and I fell asleep that night thinking that possibly
the situation was not so unusual as it appeared to me. I dare say plenty
of dinners are given with just as many unsuspected trap-doors to
sensationalism.

X

THE PATHOS OF FAITH

"To him who is shod the whole world is covered with leather."

The next afternoon I was resting and thinking over the brilliancy of the
Payson Osborne entertainment, when Sallie came in, dressed from head to
foot in black. There was not a suspicion of white at wrist or throat. I
was too startled to ask a question until her burst of laughter relieved
me.

"You poor thing!" she cried, "did I frighten you? But I _am_ in mourning;
yes, truly, for my dinner-party. Ruth, Ruth, what was the matter with it?"

"Why, nothing. It was exquisitely served, and oh, Sallie, your lawn fete
and the cotillon were beautiful. They were perfect. Truly, you do give the
most successful entertainments in town."

"Certainly--why shouldn't I," said Sallie sharply, "when I have never do