ducing his guest, "this is Mr. Ridgett, who
is so kind as to honor us without ceremony." And, as if to demonstrate
the absence of ceremony, he put his arm round his wife's waist and
kissed her.

Mr. Ridgett smiled, and opened conversation in a very pleasant easy
fashion.

"From the look of things," he said facetiously, "I hazard the guess
that you two aren't long home from the honeymoon."

"You're off the line there," said Dale. "We're quite an old Darby and
Joan."

"Really!" And Mr. Ridgett's smile, as he regarded Mrs. Dale, expressed
admiration and surprise. "Appearances are deceitful. And how long may
you have been running in double harness?"

"Eleven years," said Dale.

"Never! Any children?"

"No," said Mrs. Dale.

"No," said her husband. "We haven't been blessed that way--not as
yet."

"I note the addition. Not as yet! Very neatly put." Mr. Ridgett
laughed, and bowed gallantly to Mrs. Dale. "Plenty of time for any
amount of blessings."

Then they all sat down to the table.

During the course of the meal, and again when it was over, they spoke
of the business that lay before Dale on the morrow.

"I've ventured to tell your husband that perhaps he has been taking it
all too seriously."

"Oh, has he? I'm so glad to hear you say it." And Mavis Dale, with her
elbows on the table, leaned forward and watched the deputy's face
intently.

"Too much of the personal equation."

"Yes?"

"What I say is, little accidents happen to all of us--but they blow
over."

Mavis Dale drew in her breath, and her eyebrows contracted. "Mr.
Ridgett! The way you say that, shows you really think it's serious for
him."

"Oh, I don't in the least read it up as ruin and all the rest of it.
It's just a check. In Mr. Dale's place, I should be philosophical. I
should say, 'This is going to put me back a bit, but nothing else.'"

Dale shrugged his shoulders and snorted. Mrs. Dale's eyebrows had
drawn so close together that they almost touched; her eyes appeared
darker, smaller, more opaque. Mr. Ridgett continued talking in a tone
of light facetiousness that seemed to cover a certain deprecating
earnestness.

"Yes, that would be _my_ point of view--quite general, philosophical.
I should say to myself, 'Old chap, if you're in for a jolly good
wigging, why, just take it. If you're to be offered a little humble
pie to eat--well, eat it.'"

"I won't," cried Dale, loudly; and he struck the table with his
clenched fist. "I'm