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conference in the library, at the termination of which the doughty
major's feathers were considerably agitated.

Mrs. Calvert's good nature was not the good nature of the faint-hearted
or weak-kneed. She was never at loss for words, nor the spirit to back
them when she considered conditions demanded them. Subsequently, when
his wife retired, the major, very red in the face, called Garrison into
the room.

"Eh, demmit, boy," he began, fussing up and down, "I've noticed, of
course, that you and Sue don't pull in the same boat. Now, I thought it
was due to a little tiff, as soon straightened as tangled, when pride
once stopped goading you on. But your aunt, boy, has other ideas on the
subject which she had been kindly imparting to me. And it seems that
I'm entirely to blame. She says that I've caused you to neglect Sue for
Dixie. Eh, boy, is that so?" He paused, eyeing Garrison in distress.

"No, it is not," said Garrison heavily. "It is entirely my fault."

The major heartily sighed his relief.

"Eh, demmit, I said as much to your aunt, but she knows I'm an old
sinner, and she has her doubts. I told her if you could neglect Sue for
Dixie your love wasn't worth a rap. I knew there was something back of
it. Well, you must go over to-night and straighten it out. These little
tiffs have to be killed early--like spring chickens. Sue has her dander
up, I tell you. She met your aunt to-day. Said flatly that she had
broken the engagement; that it was final--"

"Oh, she did?" was all Garrison could find to interrupt with.

"Eh, demmit; pride, boy, pride," said the major confidently. "Now, run
along over and apologize; scratch humble gravel--clear down to China,
if necessary. And mind you do it right proper. Some people apologize
by saying: 'If I've said anything I'm sorry for, I'm glad of it.' Eh,
demmit, remember never to compete for the right with a woman. Women
are always right. Man shouldn't be his own press-agent. It's woman's
position--and delight. She values man on her own valuation--not his.
Women are illogical--that's why they marry us."

The major concluded his advice by giving Garrison a hearty thump on the
back. Then he prepared to charge his wife's boudoir; to resume the peace
conference with right on his side for the nonce.

Garrison slowly made his way down-stairs. His face was set. He knew his
love for Sue was hopeless; an absurdity, a crime. But why had she broken
the engagement? Had Waterbury said any