Burke's mouth flew open--but just in time he snapped it shut. He had remembered that hospitable husbands do not usually retract their wives' invitations with a terrified "For Heaven's sake, no!"--at least, not in the face of the prospective guest. Before he could put the new, proper words into his mouth, the doctor spoke. "Thank you. You're very kind; but I'm afraid not--this time, Mrs. Denby. My stay is to be very short. But I'm glad to have had this little visit," he finished, holding out his hand. And again Burke, neither then, nor when he looked straight into the doctor's eyes a moment later, could find aught in word or manner upon which to pin his watchful suspicions. The next moment the doctor was gone. Helen yawned luxuriously, openly-- Helen never troubled to hide her yawns. "Now I like _him_," she observed emphatically, but not very distinctly (owing to the yawn). "If all your swell friends were--" "Helen, for Heaven's sake, _isn't_ there any word but that abominable 'swell' that you can use?" interrupted her husband, seizing the first pretext that offered itself as a scapegoat for his irritation. Helen laughed and shrugged her shoulders. "All right; 'stuck up,' then, if you like that better. But, for my part, I like 'swell' best. It's so expressive, so much more swell--there, you see," she laughed, with another shrug; "it just says itself. But, really, I do like the doctor. I think he's just grand. Where does he live?" "Boston." Burke hated "grand" only one degree less than "swell." "Is he married?" "No." "How old did you say he was?" "I didn't say. I don't know. Thirty-five, probably." "Why, Burke, what's the matter? What are you so short about? Don't you _like_ it that I like him? I thought you wanted me to like your friends." "Yes, yes, I know; and I do, Helen, of course." Burke got to his feet and took a nervous turn about the tiny room. Helen watched him with widening eyes. The look of indolent satisfaction was gone from her face. She was not yawning now. "Why, Burke, what _is_ the matter?" she catechized. "Wasn't I nice to him? Didn't I talk to him, and just lay myself out to entertain him? Didn't I ask him to dinner, and--" "Dinner!" Burke fairly snarled the word out as he wheeled sharply. "Holy smoke, Helen! I wonder if you think I'd have that man come here to dinner, or come here ever again to hear you-- Oh, hang it all, what am I saying?" he broke off, jerking himself about with a despairing gesture. Helen came now to her feet. Her eyes blazed. "I know. You was ashamed of me," she panted. "Oh, come, come; nonsense, Helen!" "You was." "Of course I wasn't." "Then what was the matter?" "Nothing; nothing, Helen."