and bedroom slippers that Frances and I just threw back
our heads and screamed. Couldn't help it, by Jove!

And the frump, jogging along behind, looked just as funny. I wasn't
alarmed, for I knew she could control him. And, dash it, she did it by
humoring him! For we saw her twist her veil about the fork of the stick
he extended to her, and both of them went to slapping wildly at the air
and the ground. Presently they both came waddling back, she with a
butterfly and he with a bug which he was craning at with a lens he had
fished from his sleeve somewhere. He was trying to do this and at the
same time hold together a great armful of gaudy weeds he had gathered.

Billings got in and then I helped her. "Awfully jolly good of you to
humor his crazy whims," I whispered gratefully.

"Crazy!" she ejaculated, one foot on the running-board. "Why, he's just
getting sane! He's been a born fool all his life! And now, Jacky, as you
were saying of the _antennae_--" And she flopped eagerly by him and
together they bent over the glass.

It was rum, but I was getting along so swimmingly with Frances that I
didn't much care what they did. Seemed to be only about a minute more
and we were clipping through the curves of the Wolhurst park--Frances
pointed the way--and had slowed down under the _porte-cochere_.

The frump whispered to the man who opened the door.

"As quietly as possible, Wilkes," she said, "and without his father
seeing him."

"The judge is away, miss," said the man. "He drove down to the village
with Senator Soakem, who had to catch a train back to Albany; but I'm
looking for him every--"

"Be quick, then," jerked the frump. "You know what to do."

"I guess I do, miss," answered the butler gloomily. "I've _had_ to do it
often enough--Perkins and me. A good cold souse--that's the thing--and
then bed. _I_ know!"

Billings waved his hand to the frump as he mounted the stairway inside.
And then, dash it, he kissed his fingers.

"_Vale!_" he chirped, leaning over the marble balustrade. "_Vale, sed
spero non semper!_ I will resume the discussion _in propria persona_."

And, by Jove, if she didn't come back at him quick as lightning, and
with his own gibberish, too:

"_Confido et conquiesco!_" she cooed, waving her handkerchief.

Oh, it was tragical, dash it--that was the word, tragical! And yet the
frump looked almost happy. And as for Frances, except for being amused,
her brother's condition didn't seem to tro