“No, my dear, I took that liberty,” replied her father.  “It seemed the only way of getting rid of him.”

“Well, I sha’n’t wait for him,” said Crystal, ringing the bell.  “I have an engagement at a quarter past two.”

“At the golf club?” asked her father, his eye lighting a little.  “You might drive me out, you know.”

“No, dear; quite in the other direction—­with a man who was at the party last night.”

“You enjoyed the party?”

“No, not a bit.”

“But you stayed till morning.”

“I stopped and took a swim.”

“You enjoyed that, I suppose?”

His daughter glanced at him and turned crimson; but she did not have to answer, for at that moment Tomes came, in response to her ring, and she said: 

“We won’t wait lunch for Mr. Verriman, Tomes.”  Then, as he went away, she asked, “And what was Eddie doing here this morning, anyhow?”

“He was scolding me,” replied Mr. Cord.  “Have you noticed, Crystal, what a lot of scolding is going on in the world at present?  I believe that that is why no one is getting any work done—­everyone is so busy scolding everybody else.  The politicians are scolding, and the newspapers are scolding, and most of the fellows I know are scolding.  I believe I’ve got hold of a great truth—­”

“And may I ask what Eddie was scolding about?” asked Crystal, no more interested in great truths than most of us.

“About you.”

Crystal moved her head about as if things had now reached a point where it wasn’t even worth while to be angry.  “About me?”

“It seems you’re a socialist, my dear.  Eddie asked me how long it was since I had taken an inventory of your economic beliefs.  I could not remember that I ever had, but perhaps you will tell them to me now.  That is,” Mr. Cord added, “if you can do it without scolding me—­probably an impossible condition to impose nowadays.”

“It’s a pity about Eddie,” said Crystal, fiercely.  “If only stupid people would be content to be stupid, instead of trying to run the world—­”

“Ah, my dear, it’s only stupid people who are under the impression that they can.  Good morning again, Eddie, we were just speaking of you.”

Mr. Cord added the last sentence without the slightest change of tone or expression as his guest was ushered in by Tomes, who, catching Crystal’s eyes for a more important fact than Eddie’s arrival, murmured that luncheon was served.

“Well, Eddie,” said Crystal, and there was a sort of gay vibration in her whole figure, and her tone was like a bright banner of war, “and so you came round to complain to my father, did you?”

Mr. Cord laid his hand on her shoulder.  “Do you think you could demolish Eddie just as well at table, my dear?” he said.  “If so, there’s no use in letting the food get cold.”

“Oh, she can do it anywhere,” replied Eddie, bitterly, and then, striking his habitual note of warning, he went on, “but, honestly, Crystal, if you had heard what your father and I heard this morning—­”