Mrs. Cowles was loftily pursuing her pillared way: "Latin was _known_ to be the best study for developing the mind a long, long time----" And her clicking crochet-needles impishly echoed, "A long, _long_ time," and the odor of moth-balls got down into Carl's throat, while in the golden Olympian atmosphere at the other end of the room Gertie coyly pretended to slap the dentist's hand with a series of tittering taps. "A long, _long_ time before either you or I were born, Carl, and we can't very well set ourselves up to be wiser than the wisest men that ever lived, now _can_ we?" Again the patronizing smile. "That would scarcely----" Carl resolved: "This 's got to stop. I got to do something." He felt her monologue as a blank steel wall which he could not pierce. Aloud: "Yes, that's so, I guess. Say, that's a fine dress Gertie 's got on to-night, ain't it.... Say, I been learning to play crokinole at Ben Rusk's. You got a board, haven't you? Would you like to play? Does the doctor play?" "Indeed, I haven't the slightest idea, but I have very little doubt that he does--he plays tennis so beautifully. He is going to teach Gertrude, in the spring." She stopped, and again held the scarf up to the light. "I am so glad that my girly, that was so naughty once and ran away with you--I don't think I shall _ever_ get over the awful fright I had that night!--I am so glad that, now she is growing up, clever people like Dr. Doyle appreciate her so much, so very much." She dropped her crochet to her lap and stared squarely at Carl. Her warning that he would do exceedingly well to go home was more than plain. He stared back, agitated but not surrendering. Deliberately, almost suavely, with ten years of experience added to the sixteen years that he had brought into the room, he said: "I'll see if they'd like to play." He sauntered to the other end of the room, abashed before the mystic woman, and ventured: "I saw Ray, to-day.... I got to be going, pretty quick, but I was wondering if you two felt like playing some crokinole?" Gertie said, slowly: "I'd like to, Carl, but----Unless you'd like to play, doctor?" "Why of course it's _comme il faut_ to play, Miss Cowles, but I was just hoping to have the pleasure of hearing you make some more of your delectable music," bowed the dentist, and Gertie bowed back; and their smiles joined in a glittery bridge of social aplomb. "Oh yes," from Carl, "that--yes, do----But you hadn't ought to play too much if you haven't been well." "Oh, Carl!" shrieked Gertie. "'Ought not to,' not 'hadn't ought to'!" "'Ought not to,'" repeated Mrs. Cowles, icily, while the dentist waved his hand in an amused manner and contributed: "Ought not to say 'hadn't ought to,' as my preceptor used to tell me.... I'd like to hear you sing Longfellow's 'Psalm of Life,' Miss Cowles."