In the days which followed, Archie found himself a little out of touch with Bill and his romance.  Lucille referred to the matter only when he brought the subject up, and made it plain that the topic of her future sister-in-law was not one which she enjoyed discussing.  Mr. Brewster, senior, when Archie, by way of delicately preparing his mind for what was about to befall, asked him if he liked red hair, called him a fool, and told him to go away and bother someone else when they were busy.  The only person who could have kept him thoroughly abreast of the trend of affairs was Bill himself; and experience had made Archie wary in the matter of meeting Bill.  The position of confidant to a young man in the early stages of love is no sinecure, and it made Archie sleepy even to think of having to talk to his brother-in-law.  He sedulously avoided his love-lorn relative, and it was with a sinking feeling one day that, looking over his shoulder as he sat in the Cosmopolis grill-room preparatory to ordering lunch, he perceived Bill bearing down upon him, obviously resolved upon joining his meal.

To his surprise, however, Bill did not instantly embark upon his usual monologue.  Indeed, he hardly spoke at all.  He champed a chop, and seemed to Archie to avoid his eye.  It was not till lunch was over and they were smoking that he unburdened himself.

“Archie!” he said.

“Hallo, old thing!” said Archie.  “Still there?  I thought you’d died or something.  Talk about our old pals, Tongue-tied Thomas and Silent Sammy!  You could beat ’em both on the same evening.”

“It’s enough to make me silent.”

“What is?”

Bill had relapsed into a sort of waking dream.  He sat frowning sombrely, lost to the world.  Archie, having waited what seemed to him a sufficient length of time for an answer to his question, bent forward and touched his brother-in-law’s hand gently with the lighted end of his cigar.  Bill came to himself with a howl.

“What is?” said Archie.

“What is what?” said Bill.

“Now listen, old thing,” protested Archie.  “Life is short and time is flying.  Suppose we cut out the cross-talk.  You hinted there was something on your mind—­something worrying the old bean—­and I’m waiting to hear what it is.”

Bill fiddled a moment with his coffee-spoon.

“I’m in an awful hole,” he said at last.

“What’s the trouble?”

“It’s about that darned girl!”

Archie blinked.

“What!”

“That darned girl!”

Archie could scarcely credit his senses.  He had been prepared—­ indeed, he had steeled himself—­to hear Bill allude to his affinity in a number of ways.  But “that darned girl” was not one of them.

“Companion of my riper years,” he said, “let’s get this thing straight.  When you say ‘that darned girl,’ do you by any possibility allude to—?”

“Of course I do!”