the second entrance of Gertrude, who announced,
"Dinner serve'," and retired from view.

"Well, well!" Adams said, rising from his chair, with relief. "That's
good! Let's go see if we can eat it." And as the little group moved
toward the open door of the dining-room he disposed of his sandwich by
dropping it in the empty fireplace.

Alice, glancing back over her shoulder, was the only one who saw him,
and she shuddered in spite of herself. Then, seeing that he looked at
her entreatingly, as if he wanted to explain that he was doing the best
he could, she smiled upon him sunnily, and began to chatter to Russell
again.

CHAPTER XXII

Alice kept her sprightly chatter going when they sat down, though the
temperature of the room and the sight of hot soup might have discouraged
a less determined gayety. Moreover, there were details as unpropitious
as the heat: the expiring roses expressed not beauty but pathos, and
what faint odour they exhaled was no rival to the lusty emanations of
the Brussels sprouts; at the head of the table, Adams, sitting low in
his chair, appeared to be unable to flatten the uprising wave of
his starched bosom; and Gertrude's manner and expression were of a
recognizable hostility during the long period of vain waiting for the
cups of soup to be emptied. Only Mrs. Adams made any progress in this
direction; the others merely feinting, now and then lifting their spoons
as if they intended to do something with them.

Alice's talk was little more than cheerful sound, but, to fill a
desolate interval, served its purpose; and her mother supported her
with ever-faithful cooings of applausive laughter. "What a funny thing
weather is!" the girl ran on. "Yesterday it was cool--angels had charge
of it--and to-day they had an engagement somewhere else, so the devil
saw his chance and started to move the equator to the North Pole; but by
the time he got half-way, he thought of something else he wanted to do,
and went off; and left the equator here, right on top of US! I wish he'd
come back and get it!"

"Why, Alice dear!" her mother cried, fondly. "What an imagination! Not
a very pious one, I'm afraid Mr. Russell might think, though!" Here she
gave Gertrude a hidden signal to remove the soup; but, as there was
no response, she had to make the signal more conspicuous. Gertrude was
leaning against the wall, her chin moving like a slow pendulum, her
streaked eyes fixed mutinously upon Russell. Mrs. Adams n