_Yardsley._ Why, certainly. Of course. I don't really believe Barlow ever had sand enough to propose to any one. Did you, Jack?

_Barlow_ (_indignant_). Well, I rather think I have.

_Dorothy._ Ho, ho! Then you _are_ an experienced proposer, Mr. Barlow?

_Barlow_ (_confused_). Why--er--well--um--I didn't exactly mean that, you know. I meant that--ah--if it ever came to the--er--the test, I think I could--I'd have sand enough, as Yardsley puts it, to do the thing properly, and without making a--ah--a Yardsley of myself.

_Yardsley_ (_bristling up_). Now what do you mean by that?

_Dorothy._ I think you are both of you horrid this afternoon. You are so quarrelsome. Do you two always quarrel, or is this merely a little afternoon's diversion got up for my especial benefit?

_Barlow_ (_with dignity_). I never quarrel.

_Yardsley._ Nor I. I simply differ sometimes, that's all. I never had an unpleasant word with Jack in my life. Did I, Jack?

_Barlow._ Never. I always avoid a fracas, however great the provocation.

_Dorothy_ (_desperately_). Then let us have a cup of tea together and be more sociable. I have always noticed that tea promotes sociability--haven't you, Mr. Yardsley?

_Yardsley._ Always. (_Aside._) Among women.

_Barlow._ What say?

[_DOROTHY rises and rings the bell for JENNIE._

_Yardsley._ I say that I am very fond of tea.

_Barlow._ So am I--here.

[_Rises and looks at pictures. YARDSLEY meanwhile sits in moody silence._

_Dorothy_ (_returning_). You seem to have something on your mind, Mr.

Yardsley. I never knew you to be so solemn before.

_Yardsley._ I have something on my mind, Miss Dorothy. It's--

_Barlow_ (_coming forward_). Wise man, cold weather like this. It would be terrible if you let your mind go out in cold weather without anything on it. Might catch cold in your idea.

_Dorothy._ I wonder why Jennie doesn't come? I shall have to ring again.

[_Pushes electric b.u.t.ton again._

_Yardsley_ (_with an effort at brilliance_). The kitchen belle doesn't seem to work.

_Dorothy._ Ordinarily she does, but she seems to be upset by something this afternoon. I'm afraid she's in love. If you will excuse me a moment I will go and prepare the tea myself.

_Barlow._ Do; good! Then we shall not need the sugar.

_Yardsley._ You might omit the spoons too, after a remark like that, Miss Dorothy.

_Dorothy._ We'll omit Mr. Barlow's spoon. I'll bring some for you and me.

[_She goes out._

_Yardsley_ (_with a laugh_). That's one on you, Barlow. But I say, old man (_taking out his watch and snapping the cover to three or four times_), it's getting very late--after five now. If you want to go with Billie Wilkins you'd better take up your hat and walk. I'll say good-bye to Miss Andrews for you.

_Barlow._ Thanks. Too late now. You said Billie wouldn't wait after four-thirty.

_Yardsley._ Did I say four-thirty? I meant five-thirty. Anyhow, Billie isn't over-prompt. Better go.

_Barlow._ You seem mighty anxious to get rid of me.

_Yardsley._ I? Not at all, my dear boy--not at all. I'm very, very fond of you, but I thought you'd prefer opera to me. Don't you see? That's where my modesty comes in. You're so fond of a good chat I thought you'd want to go to-night. Wilkins has a box.

_Barlow._ You said seats a little while ago.

_Yardsley._ Of course I did. And why not? There are seats in boxes.

Didn't you know that?

_Barlow._ Look here, Yardsley, what's up, anyhow? You've been deuced queer to-day. What are you after?

[Ill.u.s.tration: "WHAT'S UP, ANYHOW?"]

_Yardsley_ (_tragically_). Shall I confide in you? Can I, with a sense of confidence that you will not betray me?

_Barlow_ (_eagerly_). Yes, Bob. Go on. What is it? I'll never give you away, and I _may_ be able to give you some good advice.

_Yardsley._ I am here to--to--to rob the house! Business has been bad, and one must live.

[_BARLOW looks at him in disgust._

_Yardsley_ (_mockingly_). You have my secret, John Barlow. Remember that it was wrung from me in confidence. You must not betray me. Turn your back while I surrept.i.tiously remove the piano and the gas-fixtures, won't you?

_Barlow_ (_looking at him thoughtfully_). Yardsley, I have done you an injustice.

_Yardsley._ Indeed?

_Barlow._ Yes. Some one claimed, at the club, the other day, that you were the biggest donkey in existence, and I denied it. I was wrong, old man, I was wrong, and I apologize. You are.

_Yardsley._ You are too modest, Jack. You forget--yourself.

_Barlow._ Well, perhaps I do; but I've nothing to conceal, and you have.

You've been behaving in a most incomprehensible fashion this afternoon, as if you owned the house.

_Yardsley._ Well, what of it? Do you own it?

_Barlow._ No, I don't, but--