on the point of sending out a "feeler" about the matter, when he
remembered Zoie's solemn injunction to "say nothing to anybody."
Perhaps it was even worse than suicide. He dared let his
imagination go no further. By the time he had put out his hand
to touch the electric button at Zoie's front door, his finger was
trembling so that he wondered whether he could hit the mark. The
result was a very faint note from the bell, but not so faint that
it escaped the ear of the anxious young wife, who had been pacing
up and down the floor of her charming living room for what seemed
to her ages.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry!" Zoie cried through her tears to her neat
little maid servant, then reaching for her chatelaine, she daubed
her small nose and flushed cheeks with powder, after which she
nodded to Mary to open the door.

To Jimmy, the maid's pert "good-morning" seemed to be in very bad
taste and to properly reprove her he assumed a grave, dignified
air out of which he was promptly startled by Zoie's even more
unseemly greeting.

"Hello, Jimmy!" she snapped. Her tone was certainly not that of
a heart-broken widow. "It's TIME you got here," she added with
an injured air.

Jimmy gazed at Zoie in astonishment. She was never what he would
have called a sympathetic woman, but really----!

"I came the moment you 'phoned me," he stammered; "what is it?
What's the matter?"