CONSIDINE was married in May. For four months Badeau heard of him and Mamie only in a roundabout way. One day, toward the dose of September, the two men met on the road.
“Hello, Hunch,” said Bruce, “how are you?”
“All right. How's yourself?”
“Fine. Why ain't you been round to see us. We're keeping house.”
“I dunno. Ain't had much time.”
“How're you getting along, anyhow, Hunch? How's the old Dean?”
“First-class.”
“Well, say, come up and see us. Come to-night. Mamie was asking about you the other day.”
Badeau spent a long evening at Bruce's cottage, and had a good time. A week later he went again. Through the autumn, as the weather grew heavy, and lake trips became more uncertain, he took to spending the evening with them as often as he could. Mamie was prettier than ever, with a new depth in her eyes, and Bruce appeared very well as the head of a household. They played cards a good deal, and talked about old times. After a while Hunch found it easy to drop in and take supper with them.
One evening late in October, when he came in to supper, he missed the usual cordiality. Mamie's eyes were red and Bruce's manner was strained. He left early and Bruce walked out with him, saying that a little walk would do him good.