The Washington times., 1913-10-09

1 appeared simultaneously. and there
was a slight pause. broken only by
| the clicking Of spoons and the tinkle
| of Ice in tall glasses.
| Robin perched comfortably on the We
randa rail. Bertram Goodall beamed
contentedly at his demure little wife
over the rim of his glass; and Dysart
Van Rensselaer, sat a little apart. his
comfortable expression of disturbed
| thought.
The fourth man. Philip Merriman. a
| Eouse guest Of the Goodalls,, drew a
lew chair nearer the table.
| Tea please, Mrs. Van Rensselaer,"
Re said in answer to her query. Tea
and some Of those little crinkly sand-
wiches. feel lazy and at peace with
! all the world
80 do l." chimed in Robin. except
| fellows and chap who cleaned me
out at bridge at the club the other
night. I. must have my revenge for
! that" he added.
The new maid approached Mr.. Merri-
man with his tea cup, and as she passed
! beside him he glanced up half involun-
tarily into her face.
She paled suddenly, then flushed GRIM
Son, and the cup shook q tri1e as she
placed 1t on the table before him; but
Sne went WIFI perfect cOmpOSure Dack
| to her mistress SIDE took up the empty
cream pitcher. and retired into the
house.
Philip glanced at Bertram Goodall,
with his lips pursed in an inaudible
whistle. then turned to his hostess.
What do you think OF my new
maid?" she asked, laughingly observant
Quite too good looking, isn't she? It's
we'll l haven't a susceptible butler. I
dislike emotional complications in the
servants hall; they lead to sudden ard
tempestuous departures, and that sort
of thing Is highly inconvenient when
one is 500 miles from the base Of DO
mestic supplies
Has she been with you long?" ven
tured Phillip tentatively.
Only since yesterday, but already
she has made herself quite invaluable
, What did you say, Robin
Mrs. Ashley declares I'm cynical.
I'm not. l never had indigestion in my
life" he answered
What a masculine argument! sconed
Mrs. Ashley. ones outlook upon life
does not depend solely on ones digestive
apparatus. my dear bOy''
'Cynicism may be the expression of
mental attitude, you know, Robin" Vic
toria Joined in, distinctly amused.
What do you call a cynic. anyway"
demanded Robin with pretended heat.
"A pessimist with a sense Of humor,"
remarked Mrs. Ashley quickly.
Then" Robin cried triumphantly,
what in heavens name Is an opti-
mist?"
"A woman" returned Mrs Ashley SEN
tentiously. We have to be. 1t Is our
salvation"
And TO think" cried Victoria, that I
knew you, Madge. when you had moth
ing more epigrammatic under your
floppy little garden hat than red pig
tails
Phillip Merriman was absently stir
ring his tea, an unusually thoughtful
look on his face.
As for Bertram Goodall, he sat with
vacant eyes and sagging jaw. oblivious
of the conversation going on about him:
his rotund countenance a blank OF
amazed incredulity.
Suddenly Phillip Merriman leaned for
ward across the table under cover Of
the gay chatter going on about them,
and spoke in a low, hurried tone:
Il say Bert-you saw"
Bertram nodded
DO you think We ought toto say
anything. you know" continued Phillip.
Bertram's expression did not help any.
But, man, you know these people bet
ter than do. They're your friends"
Don't believe in mixing up In other
peoples business" remarked Bertram.
But what's the girl doing up here?
She recognized me all right-and she
looked ratified. Don't you think they
ought to know
wait. and Wen see what she's doing
up here
Mr.. Merriman," Mrs. Ashley spoke
sweetly, leaning over the table in her
turn, do help pull us out of this con-
versational morass into which we have
foundered. Criminology. or any other
ology, is quite too somber a subject for
tea"'
"A fascinating subject. however.
Mrs. Ashley" replied Philip. inwardly
wondering how much Of his brief con-
versation with Bertram she had over
heard.
Mrs. Ashley shrugged her shoulders.
"Of course. l am not q student. nor
accustomed to deep thinking-untll the
bills come in at the first OF the month
but anything so morbid nHd horrible as
crime repels me: think the fascination
Of such things is an acquired taste. like
husbands or caviar"
DO you?" he asked amusedly But
I should think you would have nat
ural prediction for-caviar. Mrs. ASH
ley"
She gazed at him in cold uncertainty
for a moment. but he continued In bland
imperturbability
"Who started the conversation On
crime, anyway"
Il don't know" answered Mrs. Ash
ley ruefully. Il said something about
heredity, I believe. and somebody drag
ged Dysart in as an authority, and now
they're off Lombroso-ing. and Dysart is
as bad as any OF them! Poor Lucille
looks a bit beyond her depth, doesn't
she?'
Poor Lucille did. She was leaning
back in her chair, turning wide, bewil-
dcred eyes on one and another as the
flow of argument turned in either Girec-
ton.
4 Continuation OF This Story VIII
Be Found In Tomor-Ow's