To-night the talk was more than usually disjointed, owing to the regrettable absence of Hortense. There was constant jumping up, infinite "passing." Mr. Tee Wee, manipulating the water-pitcher from the side-table, complained aside to his mother at the universal thirst. Chas, it seemed, had charge of the heating-up of the later crops of biscuits: he kept springing off to the kitchen, now and then returning with a heaping platter of what he called his little brown beauties. In the midst of the confusion, Hen strode in, looking somewhat defiant, and instantly drew the fires of all. "How're the little patients, Hen? Number 9 looked pretty sick to me this--" "Best thing I know is running 'em up and down the hall, and then brisk massage--" "Gargled 'em yet, Hen?" Hen, laughing wildly, stood her ground. "That's all right!" she retorted to the last sally, which happened to be Chas's. "There are swains in this town who might boost their standing a little if only _they'd_ patronize the florist once in a while!" This drew loud approbation, and Chas (who was understood to be very attentive to a Miss Leither--_Leither!_--of the Woman's Exchange), laughing with the majority, threw up his hands, saying, "Hellup! Hellup!" He fled to the kitchen to look after his little brown beauties. The noisy supper proceeded. Presently Major Cooney, the easy-going and reminiscent, gave the conversation a new tack. "And where are your violets, Cally, my dear?" he asked, directing one of his mischievous winks at Looloo. "You must have a flower-shop full at home, if what we hear is true." Carlisle, on the point of saying something slightly caustic about Chas as a swain, found the tables abruptly turned. All the Cooneys were looking at her. She said with equanimity that, on the contrary, she got so few flowers that when she did have any, she sat up at night with them just like Hen. "And I'll wear 'em to the Masons' to-morrow night, too!" said Hen, throwing round a look which challenged contradiction. "Now, cousin, what's the use?" said Chas, reëntering with his platter. "The Visitor is giving you the rush of your young life, and we're all on. Take a handful of my beauties." "You mean Mr. Canning? My dear Chas, if he only were!" There was no rebuffing the Cooneys. They began their little third-degree system. "He called on you last Thursday afternoon, didn't he, Cally?" said Looloo, laughing, with a little face for her daring. "One call, my dear child!" "You went motoring with him on Friday," said Theodore, gravely, "and stopped for tea at the Country Club at 6.20, you taking chocolate--" "One motor-ride!" "You dined with him at the Arlington on Monday night, table decorations being small diamond necklaces--" "Good heavens!" laughed Carlisle, coloring a little. "All this is terribly circumstantial! I had no idea my movements were--" "Movement is useless--don't move, lady! We have you covered--"