“I--I--it’s at Galt’s being mended,” she stuttered; giving her husband the same excuse for its disappearance which she had made to Pauline. “I discovered some of the stones were loose.” Calhoun-Cooper contemplated her rapidly crimsoning face with misgiving. “Did you take the bracelet to Galt’s?” “Of course. I’ll stop in and get it tomorrow,” she rose precipitously. “How time flies! It’s after three; I have barely time to get to the informal musicale Mrs. Fordyce is giving at four o’clock.” “Do you and Pauline see much of Marjorie Langdon?” “Not more than we can help,” snapped his wife, her temper getting the upper hand. “Neither Pauline nor I trust her----” “Trust her? Exactly what do you mean by that term?” Startled by the curtness of his tone, Mrs. Calhoun-Cooper stopped on her way to the door. “We feel that Marjorie Langdon is jealous of Pauline’s friendship with Janet Fordyce, and is prejudicing her against us. I’ll tell you more about our suspicion later, John; I must hurry now. Oh, dear, I don’t believe I’m presentable!” getting a glimpse of her tear-stained face in the mirror, and turning she hastened from the room. Calhoun-Cooper remained for some time at his desk; then, after consulting the telephone book, he rose, and giving a few directions to the butler, left the house and made his way to Madame Yvonett’s residence. Earlier in the afternoon Tom Nichols had left Fort Myer intending to call on Janet. Since his interview with Duncan two days before, he had received no message from Janet. In very desperation he had placed the bracelet in a box containing a bunch of violets and left it with the Fordyce butler the previous afternoon. Perkins had solemnly promised to give the box to Janet on her return, and with a lighter heart, Tom had returned to Fort Myer, fully expecting that Janet would call him up on the telephone. But she never did so. While deeply wounded by her silence, his longing to see her had finally conquered, and he motored to Washington that Sunday afternoon intent on demanding an explanation. On approaching the Fordyce residence he noticed a number of motors and carriages driving up to the door, and thinking some entertainment was going on, he promptly turned his car about and made for his cousin’s house in Thirteenth Street. Madame Yvonett would probably be able to give him news of Janet. On his arrival, to his great disgust, he found the Quakeress with a room full of callers, and it was fully an hour before they departed and he had her to himself. “Draw up thy chair, Thomas,” directed Madame Yvonett. “Where has thee been keeping thyself since Christmas?” “Mostly at Myer. I’ve called you up on the telephone, Cousin Yvonett, several times to ask how you were.” “So Rebekah has told me, and I appreciate the trouble thee has taken. Will thee let me refill thy cup?” “No more, thank you,” setting down his empty teacup. “How is Marjorie?”