quacity by
asking, with a surprised glance: "Where's Judy?"

Trenor, a little heated by his unusual flow of words, and perhaps by
prolonged propinquity with the decanters, was bending over the latter to
decipher their silver labels.

"Here, now, Lily, just a drop of cognac in a little fizzy water--you do
look pinched, you know: I swear the end of your nose is red. I'll take
another glass to keep you company--Judy?--Why, you see, Judy's got a
devil of a head ache--quite knocked out with it, poor thing--she asked me
to explain--make it all right, you know--Do come up to the fire, though;
you look dead-beat, really. Now do let me make you comfortable, there's a
good girl."

He had taken her hand, half-banteringly, and was drawing her toward a low
seat by the hearth; but she stopped and freed herself quietly.

"Do you mean to say that Judy's not well enough to see me? Doesn't she
want me to go upstairs?"

Trenor drained the glass he had filled for himself, and paused to set it
down before he answered.

"Why, no--the fact is, she's not up to seeing anybody. It came on
suddenly, you know, and she asked me to tell you how awfully sorry she
was--if she'd known where you were dining she'd have sent you word."

"She did know where I was dining; I mentioned it in my telegram. But it
doesn't matter, of course. I suppose if she's so poorly she won't go back
to Bellomont in the morning, and I can come and see her then."

"Yes: exactly--that's capital. I'll tell her you'll pop in tomorrow
morning. And now do sit down a minute, there's a dear, and let's have a
nice quiet jaw together. You won't take a drop, just for sociability?
Tell me what you think of that cigarette. Why, don't you like it? What
are you chucking it away for?"

"I am chucking it away because I must go, if you'll have the goodness to
call a cab for me," Lily returned with a smile.

She did not like Trenor's unusual excitability, with its too evident
explanation, and the thought of being alone with him, with her friend out
of reach upstairs, at the other end of the great empty house, did not
conduce to a desire to prolong their TETE-A-TETE.

But Trenor, with a promptness which did not escape her, had moved between
herself and the door.

"Why must you go, I should like to know? If Judy'd been here you'd have
sat gossiping till all hours--and you can't even give me five minutes!
It's always the same story. Last night I couldn't get near you--I went to
t