at Aunt Lora, Bailey,” said Ruth. “I’ve had to speak to you about that before. What’s the matter? What has sent you flying up here?” 

 “I have had a shock,” said Bailey. “I have been very greatly disturbed. I have just been speaking to Clarence Grayling.” 

 He eyed her accusingly through his gold-rimmed glasses. She remained tranquil. 

 “And what had Clarence to say?” 

 “A great many things.” 

 “I gather he told you I had refused him.” 

 “If it were only that!” 

 Ruth rapped the piano sharply. 

 “Bailey,” she said, “wake up. Either get to the point or go or read a book or do some tatting or talk about something else. You know perfectly well that I absolutely refuse to endure your impressive manner. I believe when people ask you the time you look pained and important and make a mystery of it. What’s troubling you? I should have thought Clarence would have kept quiet about insulting me. But apparently he has no sense of shame.” 

 Bailey gaped. Bailey was shocked and alarmed. 

 “Insulting you! What do you mean? Clarence is a gentleman. He is incapable of insulting a woman.” 

 “Is he? He told me I was a suitable wife for a wretched dwarf with the miserably inadequate intelligence which nature gave him reduced to practically a minus quantity by alcohol! At least, he implied it. He asked me to marry him.” 

 “I have just left him at the club. He is very upset.” 

 “I should imagine so.” A soft smile played over Ruth’s face. “I spoke to Clarence. I explained things to him. I lit up Clarence’s little mind like a searchlight.” 

 Bailey rose, tremulous with just wrath. 

 “You spoke to him in a way that I can only call outrageous and improper, and—er—outrageous.” 

 He paced the room with agitated strides. Ruth watched him calmly. 

 “If the overflowing emotion of a giant soul in torment makes you knock over a table or smash a chair,” she said, “I shall send the bill for repairs to you. You had far better sit down and talk quietly. What is 

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