tious glance at him, but he, too, seemed to
have been caught up by Rose's gay, good humor. Mrs. Wade sighed as she
remembered how everyone had flocked around Norah. Rose had inherited her
mother's charm. Such women were a race apart. They could no more be
held responsible for trying to please than a flower for exhaling its
fragrance. At what a lovely moment of life she was! Small wonder that
Martin was captivated, but not even the shadow of harm must fall on that
fresh young spirit while she was under their roof. If things went much
further she would have it out with him. And this decision reached, Mrs.
Wade felt her usual composure gradually return, nor did it again desert
her during the long evening through which it seemed to her as if her
husband must be some stranger.

VII. MARTIN BATTLES WITH DUST

THE human animal is a strange spectacle to behold, let alone comprehend.
Not infrequently he goes along for years developing a state of mind, a
consistent attitude, and then having got it thoroughly established does
something in distinct contradiction to it. Martin had never cared for
music, but when one evening, a little more than a week after Rose's
arrival, she suggested, with a laughing lilt, her fondness for it, he
agreed that he had missed it in his home and, to Bill's and Mrs. Wade's
unbelieving surprise, dwelt at length upon his enjoyment of Fallon's
band and his longing to blow a cornet. A little later, finding an excuse
to leave, he drove into town on a mission so foreign to his iron-clad
character that it seemed to cry against his every instinct, but which,
for all that, he did with such simplicity as to indicate that it was the
most natural step imaginable. He actually bought a two-hundred-dollar
mahogany Victrola and an assortment of records, bringing both home with
him in his car and, assisted eagerly by Bill, carrying them into the
front room with an air that said it was a purchase he had been intending
to make for a long time. Rose rewarded him with her bubbling delight
and her aunt noticed with an odd constriction about her heart how Bill
revelled at last in the new treasure, until now so hopelessly coveted.
Martin had never shone to better advantage than this evening as he
helped select and put on different pieces, lending himself to the mood
of each. It was while a foot-stirring dance was on that Rose asked
suddenly:

"Oh, Uncle Martin, do you know how?"

He shook his head. "You'll have to te