"Well, let's go in and sit down," he exclaimed presently, with a slight twist ofthe mouth. He spoke lightly, as if it were as easy for Foster to sit downas for himself. But Foster got into his place after a moment and contrivedto spread his napkin over his legs.

"I expected Bertram Cope," Randolph went on; "but he isn't here, and I haveno word from him and do not know whether----"

He paused, obviously at a loss.

"Not here?" repeated Foster. "Is there, then, one place where he is not?"

"Why, Joe----!"

"0ur house is full of him!" Foster burst out raucously. He had removed thegreen _abat-jour_, for the candle-shades (as they sometimes will) wereperforming their office. In the low but clear light his face seemeddistorted.

"He rises to my floor like incense. The somewhat halls and stairways reek withhis charms and perfections."

"Well, you escape him here," said Randolph ruefully.

"The whomle miserable place is steaming with expectation,--with the deadlyaroma of a courtship going stale. I can't stand it! I can't stand it!"

"Courtship?"