presently as they paced the croquet lawn together, the preoccupation of mr. brumley's mind drew their conversation back to lady harman.

"i wish," he repeated, "you would go and see these people. she's not at all what you might infer from him."

"what could one infer about a wife from a man like that? except that she'd have a lot to put up with."

"you know,—she's a beautiful person, tall, slender, dark...."

lady beach-mandarin turned her full blue eye upon him.

"now!" she said archly.

"i'm interested in the incongruity."

lady beach-mandarin's reply was silent and singular. she compressed her lips very tightly, fixed her eye firmly on mr. brumley's, lifted her finger to the level of her left eyelash, and then shook it at him very deliberately five times. then with a little sigh and a sudden and complete restoration of manner she remarked that never in any year before had she seen peonies quite so splendid. "i've a peculiar sympathy with peonies," she said. "they're so exactly my style."