ly, "that affairs are going on so
cheerfully at home. Don't imagine, however, that because a horde of
volunteers (most of them nine-spots) have taken hold, our old guard is
of any less importance. Do you remember what a Prince Rupert's drop is?
I absolutely know you don't, and to save you the trouble of looking it
up, I'll explain that it is a glass pollywog which holds together all
right until you snap off the tip of its tail. Then a job lot of
molecular stresses are thrown out of balance, and the thing develops the
surprising faculty of flying into innumerable fragments, with a very
pleasing explosion. Whether the name is a tribute of Prince Rupert's
propensity to fly off the handle, or whether he discovered the drop, or
first noted its peculiarities, I leave for the historian of the
Cromwellian epoch to decide. The point I make is this. Our syndicate is
the tail of the Lattimore Rupert's drop; and the Grain Belt Trust Co. is
the very slenderest and thinnest tip of the pollywog's propeller. Hence
the writer's tendency to count the strokes of the clock these nights."

Dating from the night of Trescott's death, and therefore covering the
period of Jim's absence, I could not fail to notice the renewed ardor
with which Cornish devoted himself to the Trescott family. Alice and I,
on our frequent visits, found him at their home so much that I was
forced to the conclusion that he must have had some encouragement.
During this period of their mourning his treatment of both mother and
daughter was at once so solicitously friendly, and so delicate, that no
one in their place could have failed to feel a sense of obligation. He
sent flowers to Mrs. Trescott, and found interesting things in books and
magazines for Josie. Having known him as a somewhat cold and formal man,
Mrs. Trescott was greatly pleased with this new view of his character.
He diverted her mind, and relieved the monotony of her grief. Cornish
was a diplomat (otherwise Jim would have had no use for him in the first
place), and he skilfully chose this sad and tender moment to bring about
a closer intimacy than had existed between him and the afflicted family.
It was clearly no affair of mine. Nevertheless, after several
experiences in finding Cornish talking with Josie by the Trescott grate,
I considered Jim's interests menaced.

"Well," said Alice, when I mentioned this feeling, "Mr. Cornish is
certainly a desirable match, and it can scarcely be expected that Josie