Miss Wing rose from her seat. “Thanks for your advice; it’s so disinterested,” she said, with a bitter smile. “But I shall give you a few days to think the matter over. The article will keep. In case you should wish to write me----” “I know the address,” West interrupted. “Going?” Miss Wing stood at the green door. The toss of her head conveyed anger, resentment and disappointment. “If I were you I’d stick to newspaper work,” West called after her. “It pays best in the end.” XII A week later the mild Spring weather changed to heat that suggested Midsummer. The Potomac flats sent up odors that made people talk about malaria and the importance of getting out of town. Congress gave no sign of adjourning, however. The House was choked with business; important bills were under consideration and equally important bills lay waiting to be brought up. It looked now as if the session might last till July. The heat, combined with a peremptory order from Ashburnham, had persuaded Fanny Wallace that she must leave for home. She was not altogether sorry to go; since the night of the ball, an atmosphere of gloom seemed to envelop the Briggs household. It affected even Guy, who, however, attributed it to pressure of business. When Fanny complained of it, Guy would close his lips impatiently and say, “Well, Mr. Briggs is up to his neck.” At last Fanny ordered him to stop using that expression. “You have such a horrid trick of saying the same things over and over again,” she cried one day, and when he looked depressed, she tried to apologize by adding: “I suppose that’s because you’ve got such a limited vocabulary.” “A man don’t need to know as many words as a woman,” Guy retorted, and he further exasperated Fanny by refusing to explain what he meant. “I intend mighty quick to go to a place,” Fanny exclaimed, “where my conversation will be appreciated. At any rate,” she added, “I’ll go where people aren’t afraid to smile once in a while.” By the time she did leave, however, she and Guy had quarreled and had been reconciled again many times. They parted with the understanding that if Guy could be spared for a week or two, Fanny should go to Ashburnham for a vacation. But on this subject Guy remained conservative to the end. “If Congress holds out all Summer,” he said grimly, “I’ll have to stay here. I can’t leave the Congressmen alone.” “Great company _you_ are,” Fanny maliciously commented, as Guy stepped off the train. But she atoned by smiling at him ravishingly from the car window, and kissing the tips of her fingers. One hot afternoon, a few days later, as Douglas Briggs was walking slowly home, he met Miss Munroe and her little charges. Dorothy and Jack were walking listlessly, their faces pale, their eyes tired. Even Miss Munroe’s face lacked its expression of patient placidity. On meeting him the children showed less than usual enthusiasm. “They ought to be out of town,” said Briggs.