"It's my observation," he began, with an air of having much to impart, if they would only let him alone, "that in every town the size of this there are people who are predestined to marry. They fight it as hard as they can, and dodge their destinies wherever possible; but it's a pretty sure thing that ultimately they'll hit it off." "That sounds like a sort of social presbyterianism to me," said the bishop dryly, "and therefore heretical." He was really interested in knowing what Mrs. Whipple knew or felt on this subject as it affected Evelyn Porter. "Now you've been better trained, Mrs. Whipple," he said. "Well, so far as Evelyn's concerned," she answered, knowing that this was what the bishop wanted, "I'm not worrying about her. She's a sensible girl and will take care of herself. I'm not half so much afraid of destiny as of propinquity. We all know how the bachelor captain goes down before the sister, or the in-law of some kind, of the colonel of the regiment." "That's not propinquity," said the general; "that's ordinary Christian charity on the captain's part." "Suppose," said the bishop slowly, "the commandant so to speak, is really a banker, with a trusted officer, a kind of adjutant at his elbow; and also a handsome daughter. Assume such a hypothetical case, and what are you going to do about it?" He drained his glass and put it down carefully. "This looks like the appeal direct," answered Mrs. Whipple, laughing and looking at her husband, who was meditating another punch and feeling for the scent blindly. "I don't know about that Mr. Wheaton," said Mrs. Whipple, meeting the issue squarely. "He doesn't seem amusing to me, but then--I don't know him!" "Must one be amusing?" asked the bishop. "Oh, I mean more than that!" exclaimed Mrs. Whipple. "Don't we always mean intelligent when we say amusing?" "Definitions certainly change. We are growing terribly exacting these days. But," he added, serious again, "Wheaton's a success; he's pointed to as one of Clarkson's rising men; one of the really self-made." "Yes; I fancy he never knew Evelyn before the Knights of Midas ball;" and she sighed, wondering whether she was culpable. She knew that the bishop meant more than he had said and that this was a kind of warning to her. She felt guilty, remembering the ball, and the appeal Evelyn had made to her beforehand. A woman that has enjoyed a long career of fancied infallibility experiences sorrow when she suddenly questions the wisdom of her own judgments. "What's the matter with Warry Raridan?" demanded the general. "He's got to marry somebody some day; he and Evelyn would make a very proper match. Wouldn't they?" he pleaded, when his wife and their visitor did not respond promptly. "Oh, Warry's well enough," the bishop answered. "But Warry's an uncertain quantity. He's a fine, clean fellow, with all kinds of possibilities; but--they're possibilities!" "Warry's certainly bright enough," said General Whipple.