t and literary. I don't doubt that she would
be a splendid woman for Tom to marry."

"I don't know anything about it," said Amzi.

"Humph!" She flung the scraps of paper into the air and watched them
fall about him in a brief snowstorm. She seemed to enjoy his
discomfiture at the mention of the Bartletts. "Let's not be silly, you
dear, delightful, elusive brother! If you want to marry, go ahead; the
sooner the better. And if Tom wants to try again, I'll wish him the best
luck in the world--the Lord knows I ought to! I suppose it's Nan, the
literary one, he's interested in. She writes for the funny papers; Phil
told me that; and if she's done a book that people read on trains,
she'll make money out of it. And Tom's literary; I always had an idea
he'd go in for writing sometime."

She mused a moment while Amzi mopped his head. He found it difficult to
dance to the different tunes she piped. He would have given his body to
be burned before referring to the possibility of Tom's marrying again;
and yet Lois broached the subject without embarrassment. Nothing, in
fact, embarrassed her. He knew a great banker in Chicago who made a
point of never allowing any papers to lie on his desk; who disposed of
everything as it came; and Lois reminded him of that man. There was no
unfinished business on her table, no litter of memories to gather dust!
He not only loved her as a sister, but her personality fascinated him.

"They've been good to Tom; and they've been perfectly bully to Phil.
They're fine women," he said. "But as to whether Tom means to marry, I
don't know; I honestly don't."

"Tut! You needn't be so solemn about it. I intend to see that you get
married. If you wait much longer, some widow will come along and marry
you for your money--a poor shrimp of a woman with a lot of anaemic
children to worry you into your grave. And as for Tom, the quicker the
better. I wonder--"

He waited while she wondered. She had an exceedingly pretty way of
wondering.

"I wonder," she finished briskly, as though chagrined that she hadn't
thought of it before--"I wonder if I oughtn't to tell Tom so!"

The "Thunder!" died in his throat at the appalling suggestion.

"O Lord, _no_!" he cried hoarsely.

CHAPTER XIX

PHIL MOVES TO AMZI'S

When he had recovered from the first shock of his wife's return,
Kirkwood adjusted himself to the new order of things in a philosophic
temper. Nan had withdrawn absolutely her day-old promise