She said she had been coming to believe that
chivalry of the old true brand was dying out, but that dear Cousin
George has renewed her faith in it.

"Think of poor Genevieve when they both fall on his neck. They're going
up for that particular purpose this afternoon. The only two in town,
mind you, except poor Genevieve. Oh, it's too awfully bad, because aside
from this medieval view of his, George was probably as acceptable for
this office as any man could be."

The lady burdened the word "man" with a tiny but distinguishable
emphasis. Mr. Evans chose to ignore this.

"George's friends are going to take him in hand," said he. "Of course
he was foolish to come out the way he has, even if he did say only what
every man believes in his secret heart."

The president of the Whitewater Woman's Club fixed him with a glittering
and suddenly hostile eye.

"What! you too?" she flung at him. He caught himself. He essayed
explanations, modifications, a better lighting of the thing. But at the
expiration of his first blundering sentence Mrs. Herrington, with
her flexible little car, was narrowly missing an aged and careless
pedestrian fifty yards down the street.

* * * * *

"George come in yet?"

For the second time Mr. Evans was demanding this of Miss Elizabeth
Sheridan who had also ignored his preliminary "Good morning!"

Now for a moment more she typed viciously. One would have said that the
thriving legal business of Remington and Evans required the very swift
completion of the document upon which she wrought. And one would have
been grossly deceived. The sheet had been drawn into the machine at the
moment Mr. Evans' buoyant step had been heard in the outer hall, and
upon it was merely written a dozen times the bald assertion, "Now is the
time for all good men to come to the aid of the party."

Actually it was but the mechanical explosion of the performer's mood,
rather than the wording of a sentiment now or at any happier time
entertained by her.

At last she paused; she sullenly permitted herself to be interrupted.
Her hands still hovered above the already well-punished keys of the
typewriter. She glanced over a shoulder at Mr. Evans and allowed him to
observe her annoyance at the interruption.

"George has not come in yet," she said coldly. "I don't think he will
ever come in again. I don't see how he can have the face to. I shouldn't
think he could ever show himself on the str