She approached her husband who, at the far end of the room, was red in the face from the unusual exertion of trying to coax the buckle of a strap into a hole obviously out of reach. He pulled and strained till the muscles stood out on his neck and brawny arms like whipcord, and still the obstinate buckle declined to be coerced. The more it resisted, the more determined he was to make it obey. Go in it must, if sheer strength would do it. The vice-president of the Americo-African Mining Company was no weakling. A six-foot athlete and captain of the Varsity football team in his college days, his muscles had been toughened in a thousand lively scrimmages and in later life plenty of golf, rowing and other out-of-door sports had kept him in condition. When he pulled hard something had to give way. It did in this instance. There was a tearing, rending sound and the strap broke off short. With a gesture of despair he turned to his wife as men are wont to do when in trouble. "Wouldn't that jar you?" he cried, as he threw the broken strap away. "What the deuce am I going to do now?" "Why don't you let Francois attend to such things?" answered his wife calmly. "He understands packing so much better than you. You're so strong, you break everything." She looked fondly at her husband's tall, athletic figure. He turned to her with a smile. "I guess you're right," he said. "But where the devil is Francois?" "I don't know. I sent him downstairs to tell the cook to have some nice sandwiches ready when you come home after the director's meeting tonight, but that's an hour ago----" His ill humor gone, Kenneth looked up and smiled at her. Putting his arm about her, fondly he said: "Dear little wife. You're always thinking of the comfort of others. You're the most unselfish, the most adorable, the most----" "Stop, Kenneth, don't be foolish or I shall believe you----"