proving that the higher circles of the village stood
on equal terms with those of the city, with the solidarity of true
aristocracies all over the world.

On Mrs. Masterman's murmuring something to the effect that Claude would
go to the ball, of course, the young man mumbled words that sounded
like, "Not for mine." The mother understood the response to be a
negative, and replied with a protest.

"Oh, but you must, Claudie dear. It'll be so nice for you to meet Elsie.
She's a charming girl, they say, after her years abroad." She concluded,
with a wrinkling of her pretty brow, "It seems to me you don't know many
really nice girls."

She had been moved by no more than a mother's solicitude, but Claude
kept his eyes on his plate. He knew that his father was probably looking
at him, and that Thor was saying, "Now's your chance to speak up and
declare that you know the nicest girl in the world." Poor Claude was
sensible of the opportunity, and yet felt himself paralyzed with regard
to making use of it. In reply he could only say, vaguely, that if he had
to go he would have to go, and not long afterward Mrs. Masterman rose.

The sons followed their parents into the library, pausing to light their
cigarettes on the way. By the time they had crossed the hall the head of
the house had settled himself with the evening paper in his favorite
arm-chair before the slumbering wood fire. Mrs. Masterman stooped over
the long table strewn with periodicals, turning the pages of a new
magazine. Thor advanced to a discreet distance behind his father's
chair, where he paused and said, quietly:

"Father, I want to tell you and mother that I'm engaged to Lois
Willoughby. We're to be married almost at once--toward the end of next
month."

There was dead silence. As far as could be observed, Masterman continued
to study his paper, while his wife still stooped over the pages of her
magazine. It was long before the father said, with the seeming
indifference meant to be more bitter than gall:

"That, I presume, is your answer to my move with regard to the father.
Very well, Thor. You're your own master. I've nothing to say."

Before Thor could explain that it was only the carrying out of a
long-planned intention, his stepmother looked up and spoke. "I _have_
something to say, Thor dear. I hope you're going to be very happy. I'm
sure you will be. She's a noble girl."

Her newly germinating vitality having asserted itself to this extent,
sh