ouse.

"At our age there's no use in running risks," she said simply, "you
ought not to sit on the grass; leave that for the young folks."

Again he winced, but dropped with relief into the chair.

"Oh, one must keep up with the procession, you know!" he said lightly.

She made no reply; and as she lifted the bottle and began to beat the
yellow mass again, it occurred to him that the remark was exceptionally
silly.

"Does it have to go in slowly like that--the whole bottleful?" he
inquired lazily.

She nodded. "Or it curdles," she explained. "The cook sprained his wrist
yesterday. He never allows anybody to make the mayonnaise--he can't
trust them--and I was glad to do it for him. He says mine is as good as
his. Did you ever see him?"

"Well, no," Varian returned. "But he doesn't need to be seen to be
appreciated."

A strange suspicion crept over him.

"Do you often--Do you do much--How is it that you--" He could not say it
properly. Was it possible that Mrs. Dud---- It was unworthy of her!

She caught his meaning, and her cool gray eyes met his with their
uncompromising directness. He seemed convicted of unnecessary shuffling.

"Oh, Lizzie asked me not to do anything," she said quietly. "She
wanted me to enjoy myself with her friends. But I'm not used to so much
society, and I don't want to be any hinderance. I'm not so young as I
used to be. I'd have liked the gayety well enough when I was a girl, but
I guess it tires me a little now. There seems to be so much going on
all the time. Lizzie says she's resting, but it wouldn't rest me. Do you
find it so?"

He recalled his yesterday's programme: driving a pulling team all
the morning; carrying Mrs. Dud's heavy bag over the links all the
afternoon--she preferred her friends to caddies; prompting for the
dramatics rehearsal, with a poor light, all the evening, while the
actors gossiped and squabbled and flirted contentedly.

"It is not always restful," he admitted.

"It makes my head ache," she remarked placidly. "I like to see the girls
enjoy themselves. I'm glad they're happy--some of those visiting Lizzie
are so pretty!--but I'm glad I haven't got to run about so much. I'm
very fond of driving myself, if I have a good quiet horse that won't
shy and doesn't go fast, and Lizzie has one for me--a white one that's
gentle--and I drive about in the phaeton a great deal. The doctor
that came that night--were you here?--when Mrs. Page fainted and they
couldn't