"Wouldn't it make her husband angry for you to snub her?" "Oh, no, it would rather please him. He is inclined to be jealous, and likes the men better who don't have anything to do with her. It would strengthen our business relations immensely." "Maybe you are right," she added with resignation. "You lawyers have such peculiar arguments that I can't understand them." "Yes, I know. Law is the science of reasoning--of getting at the fine, subtile points which other people can not see." "Well, go, if you really think it's best," she said at last. Tom tied a black bow around his collar and put on his tuxedo. "Oh, Tom, what do you mean? You surely do not intend to wear your tuxedo and a black tie. I heard you say it was the worst of form at anything but a men's party." "Oh, ah, did I? Well, maybe I did. I had forgotten. I became a little confused by our long argument. I am always confused after an argument. Would you believe it, the other day after an argument in court I put on the judge's overcoat when I came away and did not notice it until I got to the office? You think I had better wear a long coat and white tie?" "Of course. I want you to be the best-dressed man there. I don't want you to look as if you were at a smoker." Tom wheeled toward his wife, but she was digging in a drawer for his white tie and may not have meant anything. "Now don't tell me you have none. Here is one fresh and crisp. You would not disgrace us by going to a dance dressed that way?" she pleaded. "I will do whatever you say, dear," Tom answered, with a trace of suspicion still in his eye. He put on his long coat and the tie, and when he kissed his wife adieu she patted him affectionately on the cheek. "It is good of you to go to this old dance and let me stay at home," she said, smiling sweetly at him. "Have as good a time as you can and be sure to see what Mrs. Harris wears." When Tom got into the street he drew a long breath of fresh air, and then lighted a cigarette to quiet his nerves. "I've got to go to that party for a few minutes," he said to himself, "or I may get caught when I come to take my examination to-morrow morning. I can't possibly make up a whole lot about dresses. And then some woman may tell Ruth that I was not there. Let's see," he looked at his watch, "it's nearly nine. Some people will be there. I can look them over and then take a few notes about the dressing-room as I come away." Tom paused but a moment in the dressing-room, where a few oldish men waited for their fat, rejuvenated wives, and some young stags smoked cigarettes until the buds could get up to the hall. The young Mrs. Tad-Wallington received him with a gracious smile and inquired for Mrs. Porter. "A blinding headache," said Tom. "She was determined to come until the last minute, but then had to give it up." The old Mr. Tad-Wallington took one hand from behind his back to give it to Tom, and for a moment almost lost that tired, married-to-a-young-woman look.