t of the
audience we became silent.

But amidst all the delights of the ear which were ours that evening, the
eyes of all of us would wander, from time to time, across the aisle. The
Professor sat, with arms folded and head bent, drinking in the beauties
of sound which beat against his welcoming ears. Next him, Dahlia, the
bride of three days, was vindicating the Skeptic's opinion of her
undiminished accomplishments. The young man upon her right proved an
able second. The girl on his other side, by the time the concert was
half over, was holding her head high, or bending it to study a programme
which I am sure she did not see, while her companion played Dahlia's old
game with a trained hand.

"Can the Ethiopian change his skin?" breathed the Philosopher in my ear,
during an intermission.

"I'm afraid not," I assented dubiously. "But, of course, she may make a
devoted wife, nevertheless. That sort of thing doesn't mean anything to
her, you know. She merely does it as a matter of habit."

"It can't be precisely an endearing habit to a husband," protested the
Philosopher. "If she would address a remark now and then to the poor man
at her left one might excuse her. And if she could carry on a
conversation with the other one in an ordinarily well-bred, friendly
way--and confine it to the intervals between numbers--one might be able
to forget her, which would be a relief. But all those silly tricks of
hers--those smiles, those archings of the neck--those lengthy looks up
into the eyes of that fool----"

"Don't look at them," I advised.

"I can't help looking at them. Everybody else is looking at
them--including yourself."

It was quite true--everybody was, even people considerably out of range.
If Dahlia herself was conscious of this--and I'm sure she must have
been--she probably ascribed it to the charm of her appearance. She is
even prettier than she used to be. But, as we were wont to say of her
when we had owned to all her attractiveness--"if only!"

"After all," urged Hepatica, on the homeward way, "we've no right to
judge by seeing them under those conditions. Wait till we've had them
alone with us. Dahlia told me on the way out that they were planning to
come and see us very soon.--I suggested to-morrow night, so they will
come then."

"I'll be there," accepted the Philosopher--quite before he was asked.

So on the following evening we saw them, alone with ourselves. The dear
Professor seemed to us, more t