e turned to him with a gesture
of appeal.

"Jeffery," she said, "you make me shiver!"

The man stared at her curiously.

"Why, I--I'm sorry. I'm sure I didn't--"

"Oh, of course," she interrupted, "I know you didn't. Don't be silly. As
for me, I'm perfectly foolish, don't you know. Only"--she paused--"I
detest war talk. It's so fearfully upsetting. It seems only yesterday
that it was a subject to drag in when conversation lagged. But now--"

Latham's quizzical reply was almost upon his lips, when, evidently
changing his mind, he spoke dryly.

"No doubt you'll become used to it in time.... By the by, I was in fun
about old Nick. His objection to grouse coverts and deer-stalking--I
can't fancy him in war."

As she didn't reply he picked up his fork, adding: "Yet he's a
tremendous athlete--polo and all that sort of thing. Do you know, I
suspect that when the real pull comes he won't object to potting at
Germans.... Did you do these menu cards, Evelyn? They're awfully well
done."

She nodded, eying him eagerly.

"Yes, I painted them this afternoon. You see, it was a rush order.... As
to Nick, I don't think it will come to his enlisting. I've never
considered it, really. He's awfully mixed up in government finances,
don't you know. We all tell him he's more valuable where he is."

Latham smiled faintly.

"What does Nick say to that?"

"Oh, I don't know." She shrugged. "Nothing very definite. War has been a
taboo subject with him--I mean from the first when you all went in. I
know he has strong feelings about it, terribly strong. But he never
talks about them."

"He went in strong on the financial end, didn't he?" asked the
Englishman. "Some one in London told me he'd made a lot of oof."

She nodded, coloring.

"Yes, oceans of money.... Not that we needed it," Evelyn added, a trifle
defensively.

"I know; it just came," was Latham's comment. "Well, it all helped us
out of a nasty mess."

Evelyn was thinking and did not reply immediately. When she did speak it
was apparent that in changing the subject she had followed a natural
impulse without intention or design.

"Jeffery," she said, "do you know I haven't been able to make you out
since you arrived here--nor Sybil either," she added, nodding toward
Latham's wife, whose classic, flaxen-haired profile was turned toward
them.

The man was smiling curiously.

"I didn't realize we had changed so."

"Well, you have, both of you. You talk the same and