It　was　not　so　very　long；　after　all；　before　Billy
  came　in　to　greet　her　guest。　　She　was　not　stately
  and　imposing　in　royally　sumptuous　blue　velvet
  and　ermine；　nor　yet　was　she　cozy　and　homy　in
  bronze…gold　crpe　de　Chine　and　swan's…down。
  She　was　just　herself　in　a　pretty　little　morning
  house　gown　of　blue　gingham。　　She　was　minus　the
  dust…cap　and　the　ruffled　apron；　but　she　had　a　dab
  of　flour　on　the　left　cheek；　and　a　smutch　of　crock
  on　her　forehead。　　She　had；　too；　a　cut　finger　on　her
  right　hand；　and　a　burned　thumb　on　her　left。　　But
  she　was　Billyand　being　Billy；　she　advanced
  with　a　bright　smile　and　held　out　a　cordial　hand
  not　even　wincing　when　the　cut　finger　came　under
  Calderwell's　hearty　clasp。
  ‘‘I'm　glad　to　see　you；''　she　welcomed　him。
  ‘‘You'll　excuse　my　not　appearing　sooner；　I'm
  sure；　fordidn't　Bertram　tell　you？I'm　playing
  Bridget　to…night。　　But　dinner　is　ready　now；
  and　we'll　go　down；　please；''　she　smiled；　as　she
  laid　a　light　hand　on　her　guest's　arm。
  Behind　her；　Bertram；　remembering　the　scene
  in　the　kitchen；　stared　in　sheer　amazement。　　Bertram；
  it　might　be　mentioned　again；　had　been
  married　six　months；　not　six　years。
  What　Billy　had　intended　to　serve　for　a　‘‘simple
  dinner''　that　night　was：　grapefruit　with　cherries；
  oyster　stew；　boiled　halibut　with　egg　sauce；　chicken
  pie；　squash；　onions；　and　potatoes；　peach　fritters；
  a　‘‘lettuce　and　stuff''　salad；　and　some　new　pie
  or　pudding。　　What　she　did　serve　was：　grapefruit
  （without　the　cherries）；　cold　roast　lamb；　potatoes
  （a　mush　of　sogginess）；　tomatoes　（canned；　and
  slightly　burned）；　corn　（canned；　and　very　much
  burned）；　lettuce　（plain）；　and　for　dessert；　preserved
  peaches　and　cake　（the　latter　rather　dry　and
  stale）。　　Such　was　Billy's　dinner。
  The　grapefruit　everybody　ate。　　The　cold　lamb
  too；　met　with　a　hearty　reception；　especially　after
  the　potatoes；　corn；　and　tomatoes　were　served
  and　tasted。　　Outwardly；　through　it　all；　Billy　was
  gayety　itself。　　Inwardly　she　was　burning　up　with
  anger　and　mortification。　　And　because　she　was
  all　this；　there　was；　apparently；　no　limit　to　her
  laughter　and　sparkling　repartee　as　she　talked
  with　Calderwell；　her　guestthe　guest　who；
  according　to　her　original　plans；　was　to　be　shown　how
  happy　she　and　Bertram　were；　what　a　good　wife
  she　made；　and　how　devoted　and　_satisfied_　Bertram
  was　in　his　home。
  William；　picking　at　his　dinneras　only　a
  hungry　man　can　pick　at　a　dinner　that　is　uneatable
  watched　Billy　with　a　puzzled；　uneasy
  frown。　　Bertram；　choking　over　the　few　mouthfuls
  he　ate；　marked　his　wife's　animated　face　and
  Calderwell's　absorbed　attention；　and　settled　into
  gloomy　silence。
  But　it　could　not　continue　forever。　　The　preserved
  peaches　were　eaten　at　last；　and　the　stale
  cake　left。　　（Billy　had　forgotten　the　coffee
  which　was　just　as　well；　perhaps。）　　Then　the　four
  trailed　up…stairs　to　the　drawing…room。
  At　nine　o'clock　an　anxious　Eliza　and　a　remorseful；
  apologetic　Pete　came　home　and　descended
  to　the　horror　the　once　orderly　kitchen　and　dining…
  room　had　become。　　At　ten；　Calderwell；　with　very
  evident　reluctance；　tore　himself　away　from　Billy's
  gay　badinage；　and　said　good　night。　　At　two
  minutes　past　ten；　an　exhausted；　nerve…racked　Billy
  was　trying　to　cry　on　the　shoulders　of　both　Uncle
  William　and　Bertram　at　once。
  ‘‘There；　there；　child；　don't！　　It　went　off　all
  right；''　patted　Uncle　William。
  ‘‘Billy；　darling；''　pleaded　Bertram；　‘‘please
  don't　cry　so！　　As　if　I'd　ever　let　you　step　foot　in
  that　kitchen　again！''
  At　this　Billy　raised　a　tear…wet　face；　aflame　with
  indignant　determination。
  ‘‘As　if　I'd　ever　let　you　keep　me　_from_　it；　Bertram
  Henshaw；　after　this！''　she　contested。　　‘‘I'm
  not　going　to　do　another　thing　in　all　my　life　but
  _cook！_　　When　I　think　of　the　stuff　we　had　to　eat；
  after　all　the　time　I　took　to　get　it；　I'm　simply　crazy！
  Do　you　think　I'd　run　the　risk　of　such　a　thing　as
  this　ever　happening　again？''
  CHAPTER　XI
  CALDERWELL　DOES　SOME　QUESTIONING
  On　the　day　after　his　dinner　with　Mr。　and　Mrs。
  Bertram　Henshaw；　Hugh　Calderwell　left　Boston
  and　did　not　return　until　more　than　a　month　had
  passed。　　One　of　his　first　acts；　when　he　did　come；
  was　to　look　up　Mr。　M。　J。　Arkwright　at　the　address
  which　Billy　had　given　him。
  Calderwell　had　not　seen　Arkwright　since　they
  parted　in　Paris　some　two　years　before；　after　a　six…
  months　tramp　through　Europe　together。　　Calderwell
  liked　Arkwright　then；　greatly；　and　he　lost
  no　time　now　in　renewing　the　acquaintance。
  The　address；　as　given　by　Billy；　proved　to　be　an
  attractive　but　modest　apartment　hotel　near　the
  Conservatory　of　Music；　and　Calderwell　was
  delighted　to　find　Arkwright　at　home　in　his
  comfortable　little　bachelor　suite。
  Arkwright　greeted　him　most　cordially。
  ‘‘Well；　well；''　he　cried；　‘‘if　it　isn't　Calderwell！
  And　how's　Mont　Blanc？　　Or　is　it　the　Killarney
  Lakes　this　time；　or　maybe　the　Sphinx　that　I
  should　inquire　for；　eh？''
  ‘‘Guess　again；''　laughed　Calderwell；　throwing
  off　his　heavy　coat　and　settling　himself　comfortably
  in　the　inviting…looking　morris　chair　his
  friend　pulled　forward。
  ‘‘Sha'n't　do　it；''　retorted　Arkwright；　with　a
  smile。　　‘‘I　never　gamble　on　palpable　uncertainties；
  except　for　a　chance　throw　or　two；　as　I　gave
  a　minute　ago。　　Your　movements　are　altogether
  too　erratic；　and　too　far…reaching；　for　ordinary
  mortals　to　keep　track　of。''
  ‘‘Well；　maybe　you're　right；''　grinned　Calderwell；
  appreciatively。　　‘‘Anyhow；　you　would　have
  lost　this　time；　sure　thing；　for　I've　been　working。''
  ‘‘Seen　the　doctor　yet？''　queried　Arkwright；
  coolly；　pushing　the　cigars　across　the　table。
  ‘‘Thanksfor　both；''　sniffed　Calderwell；　with
  a　reproachful　glance；　helping　himself。　　‘‘Your
  good　judgment　in　some　matters　is　still　unimpaired；
  I　see；''　he　observed；　tapping　the　little　gilded　band
  which　had　told　him　the　cigar　was　an　old　favorite。
  ‘‘As　to　other　matters；　however；you're　wrong
  again；　my　friend；　in　your　surmise。　　I　am　not　sick；
  and　I　have　been　working。''
  ‘‘So？　　Well；　I'm　told　they　have　very　good
  specialists　here。　　Some　one　of　them　ought　to
  hit　your　case。　　Stillhow　long　has　it　been
  running？''　　Arkwright's　face　showed　only　grave
  concern。
  ‘‘Oh；　come；　let　up；　Arkwright；''　snapped
  Calderwell；　striking　his　match　alight　with　a　vigorous
  jerk。　　‘‘I'll　admit　I　haven't　ever　given　any　_special_
  indication　of　an　absorbing　passion　for　work。　　But
  what　can　you　expect　of　a　fellow　born　with　a
  whole　dozen　silver　spoons　in　his　mouth？　　And
  that's　what　I　was；　according　to　Bertram　Henshaw。
  According　to　him　again；　it's　a　wonder　I
  ever　tried　to　feed　myself；　and　perhaps　he's　right
  with　my　mouth　already　so　full。''
  ‘‘I　should　say　so；''　laughed　Arkwright。
  ‘‘Well；　be　that　as　it　may。　　I'm　going　to　feed
  myself；　and　I'm　going　to　earn　my　feed；　too。　　I
  haven't　climbed　a　mountain　or　paddled　a　canoe；
  for　a　year。　　I've　been　in　Chicago　cultivating　the
  acquaintance　of　John　Doe　and　Richard　Roe。''
  ‘‘You　meanlaw？''
  ‘‘Sure。　　I　studied　it　here　for　a　while；　before
  that　bout　of　ours　a　couple　of　years　ago。　　Billy
  drove　me　away；　then。''
  ‘‘Billy！erMrs。　Henshaw？''
  ‘‘Yes。　　I　thought　I　told　you。　　She　turned　down
  my　tenth…dozen　proposal　so　emphatically　that　I
  lost　all　interest　in　Boston　and　took　to　the　tall
  timber　again。　　But　I've　come　back。　　A　friend　of
  my　father's　wrote　me　to　come　on　and　consider　a
  good　opening　there　was　in　his　law　office。　　I　came
  on　a　month　ago；　and　considered。　　Then　I　went
  back　to　pack　up。　　Now　I've　come　for　good；　and
  here　I　am。　　You　have　my　history　to　date。　　Now
  tell　me　of　yourself。　　You're　looking　as　fit　as　a
  penny　from　the　mint；　even　though　you　have
  discarded　that　‘lovely'　brown　beard。　　Was　that
  a　concession　toer_Mary　Jane_？''
  Arkwright　lifted　a　quick　hand　of　protest。
  ‘‘　‘Michael　Jeremiah；'　please。　　There　is　no
  ‘Mary　Jane；'　now；''　he　said　a　bit　stiffly。
  The　other　stared　a　little。　　Then　he　gave　a　low
  chuckle。
  ‘‘　‘Michael　Jeremiah；'　''　he　repeated　musingly；
  eyeing　the　glowing　tip　of　his　cigar。　　‘‘And　to
  think　how　that　mysterious　‘M。　J。'　used　to
  tantalize　me！　　Do　you　mean；''　he　added；　turning
  slowly；　‘‘that　no　one　calls　you　‘Mary　Jane'
  now？''
  ‘‘Not　if　they　know　what　is　best　for　them。''
  ‘‘Oh！''　Calderwell　noted　the　smouldering　fire
  in　the　other's　eyes　a　little　curiously。　　‘‘Very
  well。　　I'll　take　the　hintMichael　Jeremiah。''
  ‘‘Thanks。''　　Arkwright　relaxed　a　little。　　‘‘To
  tell　the　truth；　I've　had　quite　enough　nowof
  Mary　Jane。''
  ‘‘Very　good。　　So　be　it；''　nodded　the　other；　still
  regarding　his　friend　thoughtfully。　　‘‘But　tell　me
  what　of　yourself？''
  Arkwright　shrugged　his　shoulders。
  ‘‘There's　nothing　to　tell。　　You've　seen。　　I'm
  here。''
  ‘‘Humph！　　Very　pretty；''　scoffed　Calderwell。
  ‘‘Then　if　_you_　won't　tell；　I　_will_。　　I　saw　Billy　a
  month　ago；　you　see。　　It　seems　you've　hit　the　t