The mother rose reluctantly.
"Well, we might let it go another day," she consented. Then, looking up at the sky, she added, "I wonder if it is going to rain. I have a Reciprocity meeting on for to-day, and I'm a delegate to some little unheard-of place. It usually does rain when one goes into the country, I've noticed."
She went into the hall, and presently returned with a distressed look upon her face.
"Tryon, I'm afraid you're wrong," she said. "Now my rain-coat is missing. My new rain-coat! I hung it up in the hall-closet with my own hands, after it came from the store. I really think something ought to be done!"
"There! I hope you see!" said Cornelia severely. "I think it's high time something was done. I shall 'phone for a detective at once!"
"Cornelia, you'll do nothing of the kind," her brother protested, now thoroughly aroused. "I'll agree to pay for the hat and the rain-coat if they are not forthcoming before a fortnight passes, but you simply shall not ruin that poor girl's reputation. I insist, Mother, that you put a stop to such rash proceedings. I'll make myself personally responsible for that girl's honesty."
"Well, of course, Tryon, if you wish it----" said his mother, with anxious hesitation.
"I certainly do wish it, Mother. I shall take it as personal if anything is done in this matter without consulting me. Remember, Cornelia, I will not have any trifling. A girl's reputation is certainly worth more than several hats and rain-coats, and I know she has not taken them."
He walked from the dining-room and from the house in angry dignity, to the astonishment of his mother and sister, to whom he was usually courtesy itself. Consulting him about household matters was as a rule merely a form, for he almost never interfered. The two women looked at each other in startled bewilderment.
"Mother," said Cornelia, "you don't suppose he can have fallen in love with Norah, do you? Why, she's Irish and freckled! And Tryon has always been so fastidious!"
"Cornelia! How dare you suggest such a thing? Tryon is a Dunham. Whatever else a Dunham may or may not do, he never does anything low or unrefined."
The small, prim, stylish mother looked quite regal in her aristocratic rage.
"But, Mother, one reads such dreadful things in the papers now. Of course Tryon would never marry any one like that, but----"
"Cornelia!"--her mother's voice had almost reached a patrician scream--"I forbid you to mention the subject again. I cannot think where you learned to voice such thoughts."