was about the fish, but it branched away from the fish, radiated out from
it to other fish, to the waters where the other fish swam, to the
countries that gave on the waters, to the people who lived in the
countries.

He woke them all up, held them entranced. Lorry couldn't be sure
whether he really was so clever or seemed so by contrast with them, but
she thought it was the latter. It didn't matter; nothing mattered
except that he was making it go. And at first she had been loath to ask
him! She hadn't liked him, thought he was too suavely elaborate, a sort
of overdone imitation. Well, thank goodness she had, for he simply took
the dinner which was settling down to a slow, sure death and made it
come to life.

Presently they were all talking, to their partners, across the table,
even to Aunt Ellen. The exhilarating sound of voices rose to a hum, then
a concerted babble broken by laughter. It grew animated, it grew
sparkling, it grew brilliant. Chrystie, with parted lips and glistening
eyes, became as artlessly amusing as she was in the bosom of her family.
She was delightful, her frank enjoyment a charming spectacle. Lorry, in
that seat which so short a time before had seemed but one remove from the
electric chair, now reigned as from a throne, proudly surveying the
splendors of her table and the gladness of her guests.

When it was over, the last carriage wheels rumbling down the street, the
girls stood in the hall and looked at one another. Aunt Ellen, creaking
in her new silks, toiled up the stairs, an old, shaky hand on the
balustrade.

"Come up, girls," she quavered; "you must be dead tired."