The time had passed for wishing to be discovered.
Johnny Gamble had ceased to grin and was looking scared.
"Mr.Gresham is of a very old family," Mr.Courtney's wife reminded him.
"Age is no recommendation for an egg," her husband kindly informed her.
"Gresham is second cousin to Lord Yawpingham, and if they had any sense of shame they'd murder each other for the relationship." "Oh, Ben, I'm sure you're harsh," protested the optimistic Mrs.
Courtney.
"I'm so charitable as to be almost weak," he insisted with a grin.
"Seriously; though, Lucy, Gresham's not square.

He tried to destroy Johnny Gamble's credit with me two or three weeks ago in a most underhanded manner." There was a moment of silence, during which the pair in the bower gazed straight up at nothing.
"You seem to like Mr.Gamble," mused Mrs.Courtney.

"Everybody does, however.

Where is he from ?" "Some little town up the state," returned Courtney indifferently.

"He's a fine young fellow, square as a die and a hustler! He's going to marry Constance Joy." Johnny Gamble, turning the color of a tomato, dropped his sailor straw hat, and its edge hit the tiled floor with a noise like the blow of an ax.