to lavish the rest of life upon her brother, asking in return
nothing except that he would not be what she tearfully and often called
unkind to her.

"Say?" answered Hubert, far more comfortably. "What didn't he say? My
dear Ruth, I've had a classic homily on Marriage!"

Ruth stiffened visibly. "Marriage? Then I suppose you asked him in to
give you his advice?"

"Really," said Hubert in another voice, "I imagine you can't object,
now, to what I ask my pals in for?--supposing that I did."

She smoothed all that kind of thing away with a restful gesture.

"My dear boy, you know I've no objection, as you call it, to anything
at all you do. You are a man. I'm only your guest. I've no right to
object. But I am naturally interested. Of course, though, if you'd
rather not tell me what Mr. Boyd said"--she paused, "we'll talk of
something else."

"No we won't," cried Hubert, with a sudden passion. "I'm sick to death
of all this constant friction."

"Friction!" and she raised her eyebrows ever so slightly. Otherwise
her sad face remained expressionless, but her hands clasped each other
tensely under an old-fashioned shawl.

"Yes, friction. That's the only word. You know, Ruth, I don't want to
be a brute. You know what pals we were as kids, what pals we still
are" (he forced the words out), "and that's why I intend to have it
out. It isn't good enough. You know what a row we had over dinner.
_That's_ why I asked Boyd along. How do you expect a man to write when
he's just had a row that's brought his soul red-hot into his throat?
And you weren't very cheery company! So naturally I asked Boyd in. I
often do that or go out myself or else pretend to work, because I
simply can't endure your company a moment longer."

And now his sister leapt up to her feet. When she came to life it was
always sudden.

"Hubert!" she cried in tearful reproach. She only called him Hubert at
such moments.

He signalled her down without any ceremony.

"For goodness' sake," he said, and it was nearly stronger, "don't let's
have a row." He took a moment to calm himself and then said levelly,
"Look here, old girl, I want to thrash this matter out once and for
all. It's no use killing love in this world, is it? It's rare enough,
God knows. We've been such good pals, you and I, and now we are--like
this." He pointed at her, and she fell back dully on her chair.

"We don't mean it really," she said, fumbling for her handk