rred for six months, and then again for a whole
year. I heard of the Halidons as established first at Biarritz, then in
Rome. The second summer Ned wrote me a line from St. Moritz. He said
the place agreed so well with his wife--who was still delicate--that
they were "thinking of building a house there: a mere cleft in the
rocks, to hide our happiness in when it becomes too exuberant"--and the
rest of the letter, very properly, was filled with a rhapsody upon his
little daughter. He spoke of her as Paula.

The following year the Halidons reappeared in New York, and I heard
with surprise that they had taken the Brereton house for the winter.

"Well, why not?" I argued with myself. "After all, the money is hers:
as far as I know the will didn't even hint at a restriction. Why should
I expect a pretty woman with two children" (for now there was an heir)
"to spend her fortune on a visionary scheme that its originator hadn't
the heart to carry out?"

"Yes," cried the devil's advocate--"but Ned?"

My first impression of Halidon was that he had thickened--thickened all
through. He was heavier, physically, with the ruddiness of good living
rather than of hard training; he spoke more deliberately, and had less
frequent bursts of subversive enthusiasm. Well, he was a father, a
householder--yes, and a capitalist now. It was fitting that his manner
should show a sense of these responsibilities. As for Mrs. Halidon, it
was evident that the only responsibilities she was conscious of were
those of the handsome woman and the accomplished hostess. She was
handsomer than ever, with her two babies at her knee--perfect mother as
she was perfect wife. Poor Paul! I wonder if he ever dreamed what a
flower was hidden in the folded bud?

Not long after their arrival, I dined alone with the Halidons, and
lingered on to smoke with Ned while his wife went alone to the opera.
He seemed dull and out of sorts, and complained of a twinge of gout.

"Fact is, I don't get enough exercise--I must look about for a horse."

He had gone afoot for a good many years, and kept his clear skin and
quick eye on that homely regimen--but I had to remind myself that,
after all, we were both older; and also that the Halidons had champagne
every evening.

"How do you like these cigars? They're some I've just got out from
London, but I'm not quite satisfied with them myself," he grumbled,
pushing toward me the silver box and its attendant taper.

I leaned to t