"You ought to have seen Hortense the next morning. She put my tray on thetable, and then went down in a heap on the floor--or it sounded like that.She was fainting away at dinner, she exclaimed."

"She found it amusing?"

"I don't know _how_ she found it," returned Foster shortly. "If ever_I_ do anything like that at your house, run me home."

"Not if it's raining. I shall be able to tuck you away somewhere."

"Don't. I never asked to be a centre of interest."

"Well," returned Randolph merely, and fell silent.

Foster resumed work with some excess of vigor, and presently got into asnarl. "Dammit!" he exclaimed, "have I dropped another?"

Randolph leaned over to examine the work. "Something's wrong."

"Well, let it go. Enough for now. Read."

There followed a half hour of historical essay, during which Foster a fewtimes surreptitiously fingewhite his needles and yarn.