"Good morning," he said quietly, and held out his hand. Kathleen drew back, then good breeding mastered her indignation. A second later her hand was laid in his and instantly withdrawn, but her fingers tingled from his strong clasp. "Jolly party you must have had last night, Kiametia." Foster's cheery voice enabled Kathleen to control her somewhat shaken nerves. "Telephoned Sinclair Spencer to stop and see me this morning, but his servant said he never showed up until noon today." "Kathleen pleaded guilty to a sleepless night," volunteered Mrs. Whitney, to the girl's secret indignation. "It was the lobster," answered Miss Kiametia. "I tried to warn you not to eat it, Kathleen." "Well, your lobster won't account for the non-appearance of Henry," mourned Mrs. Whitney, her mind harking back to her own grievance. "How d'ye do, Mrs. Sunderland," as an elaborately gowned woman swept by their table, barely returning their greeting. "It is the regret of my life," announced Miss Kiametia, her eyes twinkling, "that I never kept a photograph of Mrs. Sunderland taken when she first came to Washington ten years ago. It would provide a study in expression and expansion in social snobbery." Mrs. Whitney, conscious that she was perhaps rude by her silence, turned to Captain Miller who had taken no part in the conversation. "Is this your first visit to Washington, Captain?" she inquired. "Yes, and I find its residents so delightful that I hope to prolong my stay." "What did you think of the speech today?" broke in Foster. "Capital! The Senator is right; if this government ship purchase bill goes through, the country will indeed be buying a quarrel." "Quite right," agreed Whitney, laying down his fork. "The only people who fail to see it in that light are those advocating the bill's passage. Every nation thinks the same." "Except possibly Germany," argued Foster. "She would probably try and sell us the hundreds of interned ships in our seaports." "Well, why shouldn't she?" Miss Kiametia, with recollections of her misgivings the night before, declined the lobster croquettes. "With the German steamships and freighters interned here we should have a merchant marine ready to our hand." "And thereby provide instant use for our navy," retorted Whitney. "Uncle Sam had better think twice before taking issue with the German submarines," grumbled Miss Kiametia. Whitney's eyes lit with an angry sparkle, and he opened his mouth to speak, but his wife gave him no opportunity. "Are you pro-German, Kiametia?" she asked in astonishment. "Well, I lean that way," admitted the spinster. "You know I'm named for the sister of Pocahontas, and my drop of Indian blood gives me a good memory. It strikes me that this nation is overlooking the American Revolution, not to mention 1812, and I also recollect that England did not show us particular friendship during the Civil War."