“You don’t know Joe. You couldn’t push him into trouble!” laughed Wayne, with a return of his good humour. He received a reproachful look from Addie as he shook hands with her. His father rose and bade him good-bye with formality. “We shall be gone about a week,” he remarked; “my address will be the Beverly if you should wish to communicate with me.” While Wayne was packing his bag Colonel Craighill continued to turn the pages of his magazine. Addie moved restlessly about, softly opening and closing the book-cases and listlessly glancing at titles. The display of ill-feeling between father and son had spoiled what had been at the moment of Wayne’s entrance, the happiest evening of her married life. If sides must be taken, she would, of course, stand with her husband; but she was displeased that Wayne had made it necessary for her to take sides at all. Wayne’s unreasonableness had caused the domestic sanctuary lamp to flicker just at the moment when it had flamed most auspiciously. With sudden access of feeling she crossed the room and laid her hand gently on Colonel Craighill’s arm. “Roger,” she murmured softly, “I’m so sorry!” “Don’t trouble, dear; it’s too bad you had to witness my humiliation; but it’s inevitable, I suppose, that you should know.” She saw that her sympathy was grateful to him; she felt his response to it in the soft stroking of her hair as she knelt beside him. They remained thus until they heard Wayne running downstairs humming softly to himself. He stood at the door a moment later, suit case in hand. “Good night!” he called, and as he went for his coat and hat she followed him to the door. He waved his hand to her and as the motor rolled toward the street she returned to her husband. Colonel Craighill was again turning the leaves of a periodical, and he threw it down with a yawn. “It must be bedtime.” He paused and listened. “Isn’t that the door bell? I’ll go myself.” He returned carrying a special delivery letter, and opened it with a paper cutter which she handed him from the table. “Why,” he exclaimed, his face lighting, “it’s from Colonel Broderick.” When he had finished reading he turned back to the beginning again, murmuring his pleasure, and read aloud: