A Court of Inquiry

ng im

l diso

er Night

for the entertaining of friends is not a story to be told here. It is only a few years since they were all full

suit other men, who drop into them and use their belongings, and tell me they were never more comfor

good enough to sl

ing, saw me standing in the doorway in an attitude of adoration, and gl

and put on a white cassock over my tennis fla

ropriate costume," I replied. "I keep this room only f

ch, and have got to put Miss Althea here, w

rewd though he often is. Being also skeptical, hi

rugs, drop her kimono in the middle of that pond-lily bed, and-er-att

d send h

rooms with the Philosopher. He wouldn't leave a s

nstairs I turned again into the room, in order that I might tie back the li

We call her the Gay Lady because of her flower-bright face, her trick of smiling when other people frown, and because of a certain soft sparkle and glow about her whole personality, as indescribable as it is captivating). The Gay Lady had g

efore, and her visit had been brought about by a request from her mother, an old friend, who was a

ny to have about, and, as I soon learned, sweet-tempered to a degree which it seemed nothing could upset. She followed me upstairs, t

om!" she cried, and dropped her

off the bag with a somewhat grimy handkerchief before he stood it on the white-tiled hearth. The Lad knows how I feel abo

lived in them, and had but dropped a dainty reminder of herself here and there to give them character-an embroidered dressing-case on the bureau, an attractive travelling work-box on the table by her bed, a photograph, a lace-bordered handkerchief, a gossamer scarf on a chair-back ready for use if she should need it for a stroll in the moonlight with the Skeptic. The closet door, ajar, gave a glimpse of summer frocks, hanging in order on

umbled over a rug whose corner had been drawn into a bunch by the edge of a trunk which had been pulled too far towar

g-table. My groping hand encountered all sorts of unfamiliar objects in its quest, and it was not

. Doubtless in the morning she would put things to rights. I removed a trunk-tray from the bed, hung up several frocks in the closet, cleared away the r

for those scratches on the hitherto spotless white wall, now marred by five long, b

light when my guest had arrived; she could have had no need for artificial light. Wait

I ran into

. "I came up for her scarf. She said it was ju

outside the door, looking into the dimness. I could not find the s

into the room and turned up the lamp. "Here it is," said he, and caught up some article of apparel fro

d I sternly. "

ll," said he, "in thi

-table and put out the lamp.

ough. Never mind about the scarf. I think I'll let the Philosopher take the Girl Guest to walk-the Gay Lady's good enough fo

conviction, "it will be differe

ped over upon the white embroidered cover of my dressing-table. A spot of ink adorned the edge of the sheet, and the condition of the bed showed plainly that an afternoon nap upon it had ended with some

her room. I had been at work there for some time when a tap at the door

e help?"

nly of you to noti

the door was always open, and I couldn't help seeing. If it wasn't shoes and a kimono in the middle of

y ungentlem

hat a man gets a chance to take notes like this. An open door-it's an invitation to look in. Now, the Gay L

e. "I mean-how can you tell by the look of the Gay Lady t

" said he t

t h

at you keep yo

t h

"But we can see a few things. When a woman, no matter how p

tock. Of course I never use them

Philosopher lik

lovely qualiti

beautiful good-nature that makes them so eas

n all. He got up from his bushel-basket and walked over to them. He stood and studied them for a minute in silence.

a pail of white

thea. It has a sort of chocolate paper on the walls, on which I do not think the marks of matches would much show, and it has a general suitableness to this particular guest. I have sometimes harboured

to Co