They were discussing Huntington and Cosden when the two men entered the living-room of the Club and strolled toward the little group indulging itself in relaxation after a more or less strenuous afternoon at golf. It was natural, perhaps, that no one quite understood the basis upon which their intimacy rested, for entirely aside from the difference in their ages they seemed far separated in disposition and natural tastes. Cosden's dynamic energy had made more than an average golf-player of Huntington, and in other ways forced him out of the easy path of least resistance; the older man's...

"Now, Jack, here is a chance to put your knowledge of the classics to some practical use." Helen Armstrong paused for a moment before a Latin inscription cut in the upper stones of the boundary wall, and leaned gratefully upon her companion's arm after the steep ascent. "What does it mean?" Her husband smiled. "That is an easy test. The ancient legend conveys the cheering intelligence that 'from this spot Florence and Fiesole, mother and daughter, are equi-distant.'"

The girl leaned forward impulsively from the leisurely moving victoria and looked back at the automobile which whizzed by the carriage, along the maple-lined road leading from Washington to Chevy Chase; then she as suddenly resumed her former position when she discovered that the young man, who was the only occupant of the motor-car, had slowed down and was gazing back at her.