WHEN Mr. and Mrs. Craig entered the breakfast-room, they saw, to
their surprise, General Abercrombie and his wife sitting in their
usual places. They bowed to each other, as was their custom on
meeting at the table.
The face of Mrs. Abercrombie was pale and her features pinched. She
had the appearance of one who had been ill and was just recovering,
or of one who had endured exhausting pain of mind or body. She arose
from the table soon after Mr. and, Mrs. Craig made their appearance,
and retired with her husband from the room.
"The general is all out of sorts this morning," remarked a lady as
soon as they were gone.
"And so is Mrs. Abercrombie," said another. "Dissipation does not
agree with them. They were at the grand party given last night by
Mr. and Mrs. Birtwell. You were among the guests, Mrs. Craig?"
The lady addressed bowed her affirmative.
"A perfect jam, I suppose?"
"Yes."
"Who were there? But I needn't ask. All the world and his wife, of
course, little bugs and big bugs. How was the entertainment?"
"Splendid! I never saw such a profusion of everything."
"Fools make feasts for wise men to eat," snapped out the sharp voice
of a lady whose vinegar face gave little promise of enjoyment of any
kind. Nobody thinks any more of them for it. Better have given the
money to some charity. There's want and suffering enough about,
Heaven knows,"
"I don't imagine that the charity fund has suffered anything in
consequence of Mr.
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