“Ollie was never more than five foot six or seven,” interrupted Mr. Sikes impatiently. “In his stocking feet. Now, as I said before, if I was sure it is Ollie’s corpus delicti they have got and if it could be proved to me that he was murdered by that boy setting over there in the corner, I would be one of the first men to head a mob to string him up to the limb of a tree.” He glared around the room as if challenging any one present—including Oliver—to question his right to do just what he said he would do—if! But nobody paid any attention to him. They had heard him say it before. “I don’t see how you can be so unmoved, so calm, Oliver dear,” whispered Jane in her lover’s ear. “Just think what they are talking about—and as if you were not here at all.” He stroked her hand. “I’ve been thinking of something else, Jane.” “Of me, I suppose, and the silly notion you have of releasing me from my promise.” “I _do_ release you, dear.” “I refuse to release _you_—so that’s that, as mother says. I am ready and willing to have father marry us to-night, Oliver.” “We will have to wait, dear,” he said, rather wistfully. Lizzie Meggs appeared at the sitting-room door. “That’s the third time the telephone has rung, Oliver,” she announced. “Hadn’t I better answer it?” He shook his head. “No, Lizzie. Let ’em ring. It’s probably the newspapers—” “You’d better let her answer, Oliver,” broke in Mrs. Grimes anxiously. “It may be some of your friends calling up to sympathize—” “All my real friends are here, Aunt Serepta—except Sammy. We can’t be answering the telephone all night.” “This last one sounded like long distance, Oliver,” said Lizzie. “How does long distance sound, Lizzie?” he asked, with a smile. “Never mind. You needn’t answer. Let ’em ring. Orders is orders. I told you half an hour ago not to take that receiver off the hook.” Mrs. Grimes followed the servant out of the room, closing the hall door after her. “How many times, Lizzie Meggs, do I have to tell you not to call Mr. Baxter Oliver when there’s company here?” she said sharply. “I can’t help it. He’d drop dead if I called him Mr. Baxter. We’ve called each other by our first names ever since we were kids in school together. Say, how would it sound if he was to begin calling me Miss Meggs? It’s the same thing, isn’t it? We went to high-school together and—” “Now don’t be saucy, Lizzie. I admit it’s nicer to be democratic and all that but it’s not proper, and you know it. I don’t know what we’re coming to. That young fellow that comes up here to see you calls me Serepty and then he turns around and calls you Miss Meggs. I don’t see—” “He has known me only a few weeks and he’s known you all his life,” retorted Lizzie stiffly. The front door opened suddenly and in walked Sammy Parr. Both women uttered a startled exclamation.