He came home at noon with the flush of this victory new upon his brow.  He felt equal to anything, and upon Cora’s appearing at lunch with a blithe, bright air and a new arrangement of her hair, he opened a fresh campaign with ill-omened bravado.

“Ear-muffs in style for September, are they?” he inquired in allusion to a symmetrical and becoming undulation upon each side of her head.  “Too bad Ray Vilas can’t come any more; he’d like those, I know he would.”

Cora, who was talking jauntily to her mother, went on without heeding.  She affected her enunciation at times with a slight lisp; spoke preciously and over-exquisitely, purposely mincing the letter R, at the same time assuming a manner of artificial distinction and conscious elegance which never failed to produce in her brother the last stage of exasperation.  She did this now.  Charming woman, that dear Mrs. Villard, she prattled.  “I met her downtown this morning.  Dear mamma, you should but have seen her delight when she saw me.  She was but just returned from Bar Harbor——­”

“`Baw-hawbaw’!” Poor Hedrick was successfully infuriated immediately.  “What in thunder is `Baw-hawbaw’?  Mrs. Villawd!  Baw-hawbaw!  Oh, maw!”

“She had no idea she should find me in town, she said,” Cora ran on, happily.  “She came back early on account of the children having to be sent to school.  She has such adorable children—­beautiful, dimpled babes——­”

“SLUSH!  SLUSH!  LUV-A-LY SLUSH!”

“—­And her dear son, Egerton Villard, he’s grown to be such a comely lad, and he has the most charming courtly manners:  he helped his mother out of her carriage with all the air of a man of the world, and bowed to me as to a duchess.  I think he might be a great influence for good if the dear Villards would but sometimes let him associate a little with our unfortunate Hedrick.  Egerton Villard is really distingue; he has a beautiful head; and if he could be induced but to let Hedrick follow him about but a little——­”

“I’ll beat his beautiful head off for him if he but butts in on me but a little!” Hedrick promised earnestly.  “Idiot!”

Cora turned toward him innocently.  “What did you say, Hedrick?”

“I said `Idiot’!”

“You mean Egerton Villard?”

“Both of you!”

“You think I’m an idiot, Hedrick?” Her tone was calm, merely inquisitive.

“Yes, I do!”

“Oh, no,” she said pleasantly.  “Don’t you think if I were really an idiot I’d be even fonder of you than I am?”

It took his breath.  In a panic he sat waiting he knew not what; but Cora blandly resumed her interrupted remarks to her mother, beginning a description of Mrs. Villard’s dress; Laura was talking unconcernedly to Miss Peirce; no one appeared to be aware that anything unusual had been said.  His breath came back, and, summoning his presence of mind, he found himself able to consider his position with some degree of assurance.