Matteawan, and God knows,--"

"Come in!" called out Mr. Yollop.

The door opened and a plump, dumpy lady in a pink peignoir, her
front hair done up in curl-papers stood revealed on the threshold
blinking in the strong light.

"Goodness gracious, Crittenden," she cried irritably, "don't you
know what time of night it--"

She broke off abruptly as Mr. Smilk, with a great clatter, yanked
his remaining foot from the drawer and arose, overturning the
swivel-chair in his haste.

"Well, for the love of--" oozed from his gaping mouth. Suddenly he
turned his face away and hunched one shoulder up as a sort of
shield.

"It's long past three o'clock," went on the newcomer severely. "I'm
sorry to interrupt a conference but I do think you might arrange for
an appointment during the day, sir. My brother has not been well and
if ever a man needed sleep and rest and regular hours, he does.
Crittenden, I wish you--"

"Cassius," interrupted Mr. Yollop urbanely, "this is my sister, Mrs.
Champney. I want you to repeat--Turn around here, can't you? What's
the matter with you?"

"Don't order me around like that," muttered Mr. Smilk, still with