t the fireworks
on the other side. How easy it was to tinker other people's love-affairs
for them--for oneself the difficulties were somehow a little harder to
manage, he thought. And then he began considering how long it would take
from Southampton to New York in the two-seater and just where Ted would
most likely be.

XXXIV

A long-distance telephone conversation about six o'clock in the
afternoon between two voices usually so even and composed that the
little pulse of excitement beating through both as they speak now seems
perilous, unnatural. One is Mr. Severance's thin cool speech and the
other--most curious, that--seems by every obsequious without being
servile, trained and impassive turn and phrase to be that of that
treasure among household treasures, Elizabeth.

"My instructions were that I was to call you, sir, whenever I was next
given an evening out."

"Yes, Elizabeth. Well?"

"I have been given an evening out tonight, sir."

"Yes."

"Mrs. Severance has told me that I am on no account to return till
tomorrow morning, sir."

"Yes. Go on."

"There are the materials of a small but quite sufficient meal for two
persons in the refrigerator, sir. Mrs. Severance is dining out, sir--she
said." "Yes. Any further information?"

"Mrs. Severance received a telephone call this morning, sir, before she
went out. It was after that that she told me I was to have the evening."

"You did not happen to--overhear--the conversation, did you, Elizabeth?"

"Oh no, sir. Mrs. Severance spoke very low. The only words that I could
catch were 'You' at the beginning and 'Please come' near the end. The
words 'please come' were rather--affectionately--spoken if I might make
so bold, sir."

"You have done very well, Elizabeth."

"Thank you, sir."

"There is nothing else?"

"No, sir. Should you wish me to 'phone you again before tomorrow
morning, sir?"

"No, Elizabeth."

"Thank you, sir. Good-by, sir."

"Good-by, Elizabeth."

XXXV

The rest of the party has scattered to the gardens or the porch--Oliver
has wandered into the library alone to wait for Peter who is bringing
around the two-seater himself. It is a big dim room with books all the
way up to the ceiling and a comfortable leather lounge upon which he
sinks, picks up a magazine from a little table beside it and starts
ruffling the pages idly. The chirrup of a telephone bell that seems to
come out of the wall beside him makes him jump.

The