t is quite annoying to be
called on so frequently for these petty sums. Really, I--"

The major searched his pockets. He found only a two-dollar bill, which
he returned to his vest pocket.

"I must attend to this at once, Lydia," he said. "Kindly get me my
umbrella and I will go down town immediately. The congressman from our
district, General Fulghum, assured me some days ago that he would use
his influence to get my book published at an early date. I will go to
his hotel at once and see what arrangement has been made."

With a sad little smile Miss Lydia watched him button his "Father
Hubbard" and depart, pausing at the door, as he always did, to bow
profoundly.

That evening, at dark, he returned. It seemed that Congressman Fulghum
had seen the publisher who had the major's manuscript for reading.
That person had said that if the anecdotes, etc., were carefully
pruned down about one half, in order to eliminate the sectional and
class prejudice with which the book was dyed from end to end, he might
consider its publication.

The major was in a white heat of anger, but regained his equanimity,
according to his code of manners, as soon as he was in Miss Lydia's
presence.

"We must have money," said Miss Lydia, with a little wrinkle above her
nose. "Give me the two dollars, and I will telegraph to Uncle Ralph
for some to-night."

The major drew a small envelope from his upper vest pocket and tossed
it on the table.

"Perhaps it was injudicious," he said mildly, "but the sum was so
merely nominal that I bought tickets to the theatre to-night. It's a
new war drama, Lydia. I thought you would be pleased to witness its
first production in Washington. I am told that the South has very fair
treatment in the play. I confess I should like to see the performance
myself."

Miss Lydia threw up her hands in silent despair.

Still, as the tickets were bought, they might as well be used. So that
evening, as they sat in the theatre listening to the lively overture,
even Miss Lydia was minded to relegate their troubles, for the hour,
to second place. The major, in spotless linen, with his extraordinary
coat showing only where it was closely buttoned, and his white hair
smoothly roached, looked really fine and distinguished. The curtain
went up on the first act of "A Magnolia Flower," revealing a typical
Southern plantation scene. Major Talbot betrayed some interest.

"Oh, see!" exclaimed Miss Lydia, nudging his arm, and p