irritatedly, and then Oliver
understood that though he might be quixotic on occasion, he was both
human and--Oliver hesitated over the words, they seemed so odd to
his youth to be using of a man who was certainly old enough to be his
father--really in love with Mrs. Severance after all. So, until Mr.
Piper's taxi came they chatted of indifferent matters much as they might
have while watching people splashing about in the water from the porch
of the swimming pool at Bar Harbor--and Oliver felt exceedingly in the
way. These last dozen minutes were the hardest to get through of the
whole evening, he thought rather dizzily; up till now he had almost
forgotten about Ted, but it would be quite in keeping with everything
else that had happened if just as Mr. Piper were leaving, a formal
farewell on his lips and everything straightened out to everyone's
conspiratorial or generously befooled satisfaction, Ted should stagger
into the room like the galvanized corpse of a Pharoah wrapped in towels
instead of mummy-cloth and everything from revolver-shots to a baring of
inmost heart-histories would have to be gone through with again.

So when Oliver heard the telephone ring again he knew it was too good
to be true, and, even when Mr. Piper started to answer it, was struck
chilly with a hopeless fear that it might be police. But Fate had
obviously got a trifle bored of her sport with them, or very possibly
tired out by the intricacy of her previous combinations--for it was only
the taxi after all and Mr. Piper was at the door.

"No use saying good-by to you now, is there, Oliver?" he said quietly,
but held out his hand nevertheless.

"Well, good-by, Rose," as he scrupulously shook hands with Mrs.
Severance.

"Good-by, Sargent," and then the door he had had such difficulty
in opening two hours before had shut behind him and Oliver and Mrs.
Severance were left looking at each other.

"Well," said Mrs. Severance with a small gasp.

"Well," said Oliver. "Well, well!"

"Excuse me," said Oliver, and he walked over to the table and poured
himself what he thought as he looked at it was very like the father and
mother of all drinks.

"You might--do something like that for me--" said Mrs. Severance
helplessly. "If you did--I think--I might be able to think--oh, _well_!"

"Well," repeated Oliver like a toast as he tipped the bottle and the
drink which he poured for Mrs. Severance was so like unto his drink that
it would have taken a