Her Lord and Master. Martha Morton

doctor, you're not sure of your ground. You don't know my family. They're devoted to me."

      "Of course," said the Noted Authority, smiling blandly. "That is the trouble."

      "Say now. They're not going to do me any harm."

      "Intentionally, I hope not."

      "Of course they have their little squabbles, but I can manage them all right."

      "We might effect a compromise. How old is your daughter?"

      "Eighteen. A perfect child. We can do whatever we like with her." Stillwater smiled involuntarily as he uttered this unblushing falsehood, thinking "I mean she can do whatever she likes with us. My words got twisted, that's all."

      "Well, suppose we leave your mother-in-law behind, and take your wife and daughter. The latter, I gather, is tractable and easily managed."

      "Leave my mother-in-law behind! Oh, I couldn't do that. She's making a great sacrifice for my sake. She's awful seasick but I promised her a good time, once we get to Japan, and I mean to keep my word."

      The Noted Authority sighed. "You're quite decided on that point?"

      "Quite. Couldn't leave her behind. Wouldn't hurt her feelings for the world."

      "There is no more to be said, Mr. Stillwater."

      "The sailing trip's off, then?"

      "Except you resolve to go alone. In case of nervous derangement I always advise separation. No family."

      "Of course, I couldn't presume to argue with you, Doctor. But I'll talk it over with the ladies. They'll never allow me to go alone, though, I'm quite sure of it."

      "Is there any necessity to precipitate matters so far?" said the Noted Authority. "Would it not be easier to announce at once quietly and firmly your intention to go, avoiding all preliminary discussion?"

      "Oh, you don't know my family; they would not allow that sort of thing. Doctor, are you married?"

      "I have been a widower for some years."

      "That explains—you've forgotten how it is. You see, my family are a very touchy lot—but I know just how to handle them. We get along swimmingly."

      "As these domestic conditions seem inevitable, further discussions seem useless. Talk it over with the ladies. Perhaps with the assistance of your wife, your daughter and your mother-in-law you may arrive at some decision which will be agreeable to all concerned."

      "Certainly! Certainly! I'll do as you say—we'll talk it over and we'll hit on something between the lot of us. See you again, Doctor. Good-by."

      "He's pretty far gone already, I fear," thought the Noted Authority after Stillwater had departed. "Absolutely afraid to act on his own responsibility."

      "What do you think?" cried Stillwater, bursting in on his family about dinner hour. "He won't allow you to go with me on that sailing trip. He says I must go alone."

      "Well, pa, you go right back and tell him that we wouldn't think of allowing you to do anything of the kind."

      "His office hours are over now, Indiana," said Stillwater, smiling placidly. "Will to-morrow morning do?"

      "Oh, father, it would just break my heart to see you going off alone and sick, too."

      "Not to be thought of for a minute," said Mrs. Bunker.

      "I told him you wouldn't hear of it." Stillwater leaned back in his chair, watching with evident enjoyment the effect of his words. "He said that to confine a perfectly normal person on a sailing vessel for three months with his wife, his daughter, and his mother-in-law, would make him a nervous wreck for life."

      "Did he say that, pa?"

      "Practically, Indiana."

      "Brute," said Mrs. Bunker. "If he once had the privilege of making my acquaintance he might change his views on the matter."

      "He might fall all over himself to become one of the sailing party himself then," remarked Stillwater chuckling. "Well, he said I should talk it over with the ladies."

      "It's a wonder he gave us that much consideration," said Indiana loftily.

      "I reckon he thought he was humoring me. I guess he thinks I'm a gone case." Stillwater slapped his knee. "Well, I've been doing some tall thinking on my own account and it's come to this." He rose and looked at his wife. "In the old days when I was coaxing the ground, I never had these feelings, mother."

      "Oh, no!"

      "I'm going back to nature. I'm going to buy a farm. I know just where to lay my hands on one in Indiana. Spring is coming. I'm going to live on it and work on it, till I'm a new man again."

      "I second that motion," said Mrs. Bunker, bringing her hand down on the table.

      "And I," cried Indiana. "We'll all go farming."

      "Well, mother, you're not saying a word."

      She smiled up at him. Her eyes were full of tears.

      "It—it will be like the old days," she said.

      "Here are the hats!" cried Indiana, as Kitty, the maid, entered staggering under the weight of a number of boxes. They all became immediately interested in the absorbing question of spring headgear.

      "How do you like this?" inquired Mrs. Bunker, perching a black net concoction on her carefully dressed head.

      "Very becoming!" answered Indiana, after a critical inspection.

      "Suits you fine, grandma!" said Stillwater.

      "Shows what you all know!" remarked Mrs. Bunker, looking in the glass. "It's entirely too old for me." She placed it on her daughter's smooth brown coils.

      "Ah!" cried Stillwater admiringly. His wife, sitting under inspection, looked inquiringly at Indiana. A mirror held no significance for Mrs. Stillwater. She was always supremely satisfied with whatever her family approved of, for her, in the way of personal adornment.

      "I'll take that hat for ma," said Indiana. "It's all right."

      "Yes, Mary can afford to wear it," said Mrs. Bunker. "I'm not young enough for a hat like that."

      "Ladies," exclaimed Mr. Stillwater, looking at his watch. "This is a pretty interesting show, but excuse me for the liberty of reminding you that there's another, starting at a quarter past eight, at which we've made a solemn resolution to be present."

      "Hear! Hear!" cried Indiana.

      "It is now seven o'clock. Of course you don't take as long to dress as I do." He made quickly for the door.

      "Not a bit longer than other women," cried Indiana.

      "Well, we'll leave that question open," said Mr. Stillwater, disappearing.

      That evening, as they were stepping from the elevator in their wraps, ready for the theatre, Mrs. Bunker uttered an exclamation of intense surprise.

      "Lord Canning!"

      "Mrs. Bunker; I am delighted!"

      "And Lord Stafford, too!" She shook hands with an elderly gentleman, slightly foppish in appearance. "Well, of all people in the world, to meet you here to-night. I'm just ready to faint."

      "Don't! Don't! Mrs. Bunker," said Lord Stafford, with a laugh of intense enjoyment.

      "Lord Stafford; Lord Canning; my son-in-law, Mr. Stillwater; my daughter, Mrs. Stillwater, and my grand-daughter, Miss Stillwater."

      "Indiana," thought Lord Canning, as he bowed ceremoniously.

      "These gentlemen were my constant companions at Cannes last year," said Mrs. Bunker. "We and the Jennings' were together most of the time."

      "I'm glad to know you, gentlemen! My mother-in-law's often talked about