The Real Adventure

essed as she usually was ten minutes before the hour at which she had invited guests

wing what she could do if she chose, didn't distress herself over being lighted up, on occasions, to something a good deal less than her full candle-power. To Frederica at

d half an hour earlier. Even her husband discovered it. He brought in a cigarette, left the door open behind him and stood smiling down at her with the peculiarly complac

be perhaps a fair interpretation of it-and asked him what time it was, in the evident hope tha

rmless passion he had for minute divisions of time, but to-night i

must have been looking at her, for he wanted to kno

d know the difference. And as for the women-well, if they have

shed him, pending a minute operation with an infinitesimal hairpin. "It isn't your lay a b

er hand-glass; then finished, casuall

ked at her, widened his eyes, said "Huh!" to himself and

, because he freezes them perfectly brittle with fright. But Hermione's really pretty intelligent. She can understand fully half the things he talks about and she's clever enough to pretend about the rest. She's got lots of tact and skill, she's good-l

rying to marry a rich widow is one I'm not equal to without a handicap of at least two c

to-night. He said he had something he wanted to talk to me about. I knew I shouldn't have a minut

the ring of the door-bell, at which she c

he said. "Let's

heard speaking the moment the door opened-a voice with a crisp ring to it that sounded always younger than his years. What

erribly w

on her husband

h that rain! Do run down and see what he's like. And if he'

d her powers, stimulated though they were by the way she heard her husb

" she heard him add. "Run along up-stai

eases, clung dismally to his ankles and toned down almost indistinguishably into his once tan boots by the medium of a liberal stipple of mud spatters. Evidently, he had worn no overcoat. Both his side pockets had been, apparently

dismal wreck, beamed good-humored innocent affection at her. It was a big featured, strong, rosy face, and the unmistakable intellectual power

. "I didn't know you wer

rthday cake, but I thought it would just be the family. So instead of dressing, I thought I'd walk down fro

ds that she wanted an explanation. He was painting w

to collect two fares for one ride, so I walke

ou are," sai

at he should decamp furtively by the back stairs, the sound of new arrivals to the dinner party warning him that the other

s masterly stratagem. "Don't be impossible, Rod," she s

ned, then laughed. He

as one of the k

ou. And you've got just about seven minutes to get presentable in. Go into Martin's bathroom

dear boy," she pleaded, "hurry as fast as you can, and then come down and be as nice as you can"-she hesi

asked. "Sure I'l

iously as he disappeared in the

ued as a result of his escapade. There was a sort of hilar

ey were

he disaster had been largely of her own contriving. She had bee

talk should be by twos rather than general, and she had spent

obably wasn't interested in her either, but would be polite because he was to everybody. Frederica herself sat between Carl Leaventritt of the university-a great acquisition, since whatever you might think of him as an empirical psychologist, there was no doubt of his being an accomplished diner-out-and Violet's husband, as he vociferously proclaimed himself, John Williamson, an untired

doubt will have observed, the easy unforced isolation of Rodney and th

looking much less dreadful than she had expected, in her husband's other dress suit, and not forgetful, it a

into a conversation with John Williamson, whom she liked as well as Martin did Violet. She never thought of the objects of her matrimonial design again until her ear was caught by a huge seven-cornered

st she said, 'I believe Doctor Randolph would agree with me.' He was talking to me then, but maybe that isn't why she did it. Well, and Rodney straightened up and said, 'Is that Randolph, the alienist!' You see he hadn't caught his name when they were introduced. And that's how it started. Hermione was game-I'll

started. Didn't I sit there and watch for a mortal hour, not able to do a thin

being so miffy about getting frozen out, and Martin himself being so interested in what they were shouting at each other-becaus

rl with her. She made no effort to resist the departure of the others, with reasonable promptitude, in their train. When, after the front door had closed for the last time,

n accents of lively commiseration, "I