"She won't be one long, though," asserted Rob cheerfully, "because she is going to marry my cousin in the fall." Beth's expression remained neutral at the announcement, but I noticed throughout the afternoon that she was extremely affable toward Miss Frayne, and that she had the whiphand again with Rob, and meanwhile he seemed to be gathering a grim determination to do or die. "Lucien, how did you come to ask Miss Frayne to go to that awful place tonight?" asked Silvia when we had gone to our room for a siesta, which seemed impossible by reason of the bellowing of Diogenes, who balked at being required to lie down. "Rob asked me to," I informed her, when I had cowed Diogenes, "so he could have a free field for Beth. I believe he planned this expedition so he could storm the citadel." She reflected. "Well, maybe he is wise. Girls like Beth have to be taken by storm sometimes. I shouldn't wonder if Rob could be a bit of a bully, too, but--" She ended her speculations in a shriek. "Oh, Lucien! Diogenes has jumped out the window." We rushed down stairs, Silvia informing the guests in transit of the awful catastrophe. Silvia paused at the door opening on to the veranda. "I can't see him," she said faintly, closing her eyes. "You'll have to tend to it alone, Lucien." Beth was already at the telephone, which connected with the country doctor's. Rob joined me. We located our window, and began hunting underneath for the pieces. "Where in the world do you suppose he landed?" asked Rob. Just then the missing one came around the house clasping a bologna sausage in his fist. "Ye Gods and little Polydores!" exclaimed Rob. I caught Diogenes by the arm and rushed him in to Silvia. I found her in company with an old colored mammy, who was laundress for the hotel. "Sho'," she was saying, "I done gwine by de windah with ma baby cab full o' cloes, an' dis yer white chile done come tumblin' down an' fall right in ma cab. Now, what do you think o' dat? I reckon I was nevah so done clean skeert afoah in ma life. An' ef de chile didn't grab one of ma bolognas and done git out de cab an' run around de house." "Oh," cried Silvia, "poor little baby! Come to mudder. Lucien, where are you going with him?" I had picked up the acrobatic Polydore and was going up the stairs two at a time. I gained our room, locked the door and proceeded to give the "poor little baby" all that was coming to him. Now and then above his howls, I heard Silvia's plaintive protests outside the door, but I finished my job completely and satisfactorily, and laid the penitent Polydore in his little bed. Then I went out into the hall, feeling better than I had in months. Silvia essayed to pass me, but I took her arm and led her to a recess in the hall. "I am convinced," I told her, "that we have Diogenes as a permanent pensioner on our hands, so it was up to me to show him where to get off. You can't go to him for a quarter of an hour."