about the mess in the guest room." And, smiling, he left.

99

was

Stephen was petrified. This really too damned much! And no hotel within fifteen miles! Glumly he took off his coat and went into the bathroom. He managed not to Islam the door.

When Stephen entered the living room, Miss Laughton was pouring another Bloody Mary for her nephew. His own drink, he noticed gratefully,

had been refurbished.

"Did you find everything you wanted, Stephen?" She went on without waiting for an answer, "I just told Jim that he could have one more drink in honor of our guest. Now, let's just sit and talk. I've asked Patty to put dinner back a little."

So they sat and talked, mostly of family connections and what Stephen did in his work. Occasionally Jim offered some remark or comment, and Stephen was pleased that they were pertinent and intelligent. A bright lad. And SO damned handsome! handsome! No, Beautiful. He looked at that clear skin, those fine-boned hands, the dark, soft hair that persisted in falling down over his heavy brows. Really, it wasn't fair to be in such a fix! To have to spend the night lying chastely next to that! Mentally he cursed his hostess for her wallpaper.

"That was a wonderful dinner, Cousin Mary," said Stephen later. "I'm so pleased that you remembered how much I like Patty's frozen vanilla souffle."

Miss Laughton laughed. "I really didn't remember, Stephen," she confessed. "but it's one of Jim's favorites, too. Patty just happened to decide to make it for tonight."

"Aunt Mary," said Jim almost shyly, "may we have Grand Marnier with the coffee?"

"Really, Jim, you're turning into a lush! Two cocktails and now you

16

want a liqueur! Very well! Grand Marnier it is."

"I can see that you're looking after him properly," grinned Stephen.

As Patty brought in the coffee and liqueur. Miss Laughton curled up almost girlishly on the yellow damask sofa. "I feel quite the lady of the evening! Two handsome men all to myself! You can have the coffee to yourselves, as well as the Grand Marnier. Coffee keeps me awake. At least, I always think it does-and feel obligated to lie awake half the night in consequence." She poured two cups, filling the delicate Wedgwood demitasses with the elegance born of long practice. The fragile Waterford liqueur glasses were brimming. For a moment the three sat silently, watching the fire that the chill of the May evening made comforting.

'It's just as well, Stephen," remarked Miss Laughton, "that you didn't come last week. The house was in utter ruin thanks to a pair of the most dilatory paper hangers I've ever seen. They finally-yes, Patty?"

"Miz Randolph wondered if you could talk to her a minute, Miss Mary. It's about them flowers for the church."

"Oh-oh, all right. Yes, I'll come. Excuse me, please. Annie always calls at the wrong time." Stephen and Jim rose as Miss Laughton left the sofa and the room. Stephen thought that Jim had a rather curious expression of relief. They had scarcely sat down again before Miss Laughton was back.

"Now, don't get up, for goodness' sake!" She sat down smiling. "I love good manners, but let's just be comfortable tonight. What was I saying?"

"Are you going directly back to New York, sir?" asked Jim seemingly from the depths of reverie.

"Directly back. I have to be at the office day after tomorrow. And," he added, "I wish you wouldn't call me 'sir'."