"A very nice dinner," he assented. But at the tone she looked up.

"Well, what was wrong?" she demanded. "I saw when I went out that you
were angry about something. Your face was awful."

"Oh, come now, Natalie," he protested. "It wasn't anything of the
sort. The dinner was all right. The guests were--all right. I may have
unconsciously resented your attitude about Doctor Haverford. Certainly
he didn't angle for it, and I had no idea of throwing a sop to
Providence."

"That isn't what was wrong at dinner."

"Do you really want me to tell you?"

"Not if it's too disagreeable."

"Good heavens, Natalie. One would think I bullied you!"

"Oh, no, you don't bully. It's worse. It's the way you look. Your face
sets. Well?"

"I didn't feel unpleasant. It's rather my misfortune that my face--"

"Didn't you like my gown?"

"Very much. It seemed a trifle low, but you know I always like your
clothes." He was almost pathetically anxious to make up to her for that
moment's disloyalty in the library.

"There!" she said, brushing the papers aside. "Now we're getting at
it. Was I anything like as low as Audrey Valentine? Of course not! Her
back--You just drive me to despair, Clay. Nothing I do pleases you. The
very tone of that secretary of yours to-day, when I told her about that
over-draft--it was positively insulting!"