out in words with it, but he has intimated that such an
act from the representative antis of this town would more than anything
strengthen his theories into facts. As unattached women, particularly as
women of his own family, his support and protection, as he puts it, are
due you, _due_ you!"

Mrs. Smith clasped her plentifully ringed fingers, and regarded him with
her prominent eyes widening.

"Why, I--unprotected widow that I am, Mr. Evans, am not the one to force
myself even upon my cousin if--"

"Nor I, Penfield. It would be a pleasant enough change, heaven knows,
from the boarding-house. But you can ask your mother, Penfield, if there
ever was a prouder girl in all Whitewater than Emmy Brand. I--"

"But I tell you, ladies, the obligation is all on George's part. It's
just as if you were polling votes for him. What is probably the oldest
adage in the language, states that actions speak louder than words.
Give him his chance to spread broadcast to your sex his protection, his
support. That, ladies, is all I--we--ask."

"But I--Genevieve--the housekeeping, Penfield. Genevieve isn't much on
management when it comes to--" "Housekeeping! Why, I have it from your
fair cousin herself, Miss Emelene, that her idea of their new little
home is the Open House."

"Yes, but--as Emelene says, Mr. Evans, it's an imposition to--"

"Why do you think, Mrs. Smith, Martin Jaffry spends all his evenings
up at Remingtons' since they're back from their honeymoon? Why, he was
telling me only last night it's for the joy of seeing that new little
niece of his lording it over her well-oiled little household, where a
few extra dropping in makes not one whit of difference."

At this remark, embedded like a diamond in a rock, a shade of faintest
color swam across Mrs. Smith's face and she swung him her profile and
twirled at her rings.

"And where Genevieve Remington's husband's interests are involved,
ladies, need I go further in emphasizing your welcome into that little
home?"

"Heaven knows it would be a change from the boarding-house, Alys. The
lunches here are beginning to go right against me! That sago pudding
today--and Gallup knowing how I hate starchy desserts!"

"For the sake of the cause, Miss Emelene, too!"

"Gallup would have to hold our rooms at half rate."

"Of course, Mrs. Smith. I'll arrange all that."

"I--I can't go over until evening, with three trunks to pack."

"Just fine, Mrs. Smith. You'll be there just