u and Elise
haven't at last--"

"No, no; not that." Hough repelled the suggestion with a gesture as
though it were a tangible object. "Elise left to-day to spend a month
with her uncle up in northern Wisconsin, and I can't get out of town for
a week. I feel as I fancy a small bird feels when it has fallen out of
the nest while its mother is away. The bottom seems to have dropped out
of town and left me stranded."

The host observed his guest humorously--a bit maliciously. "It is good
for you, you complacent benedict," he remarked unsympathetically. "You
can understand now the normal state of mind of bachelors. Perhaps after
a few more days you'll have been tortured enough to retract the argument
you made to me about matrimony. I repeat, it's poetic justice, and good
for a man now and then to have a dose of his own medicine."

Hough smiled as at an oft-heard joke. "All right, old man, have it as
you please; only let's steer clear of a useless discussion of the
subject to-night."

"With all my heart," said Sidwell. The decanter was once more in his
hand. "Let's drink to the very good health of Elise on her journey."

Hough hesitated. He had a feeling that there was an obscure desecration
in the toast, but it was not tangible enough to resent. "To her very
good health," he repeated in turn.

For a moment he looked steadily into the face of his companion, now a
trifle flushed. Again an inward monitor warned him it were better to go;
but the first flood of the liquor had reached his brain, and the
temptation to remain was strong.

"By the way, how are you coming on with your own affair of the heart?
Have you propounded the momentous question to the lady?"

Sidwell pulled forward the box of cigars and helped himself to one.
"No," he returned with deliberation. "I haven't had a good opportunity.
A gentleman from the West, where they wear their hair long and their
coat-tails short, has suddenly appeared like an obscuring cloud on the
Baker sky. I have a suspicion that he has aspirations for the hand of
the lady in question. Anyhow, he's haunted the house like a ghost
to-day. Mother Baker has for some reason taken a fancy to your humble
servant, and over the 'phone she has kept me informed of the stranger's
tribulations. He seems to be meeting with sufficient difficulties
without my interposition, so out of the goodness of my heart I've given
him an open field. I hope you appreciate my consideration. I fear he's
not of