“That’s the reason I live down there,” proclaimed Howard, as he finished his first glass of champagne.

“Honora,” demanded Mrs. Dallam, ignoring his bravado, “why don’t you take a house at Quicksands?  You’d love it, and you’d look simply divine in a bathing suit.  Why don’t you come down?”

“Ask Howard,” replied Honora, demurely.

“Well, Lily, I’ll own up I have been considering it a little,” that gentleman admitted with gravity.  “But I haven’t decided anything.  There are certain drawbacks—­”

“Drawbacks!” exclaimed Mrs. Dallam.  “Drawbacks at Quicksands!  I’d like to know what they are.  Don’t be silly, Howard.  You get more for your money there than any place I know.”  Suddenly the light of an inspiration came into her eyes, and she turned to her husband.  “Sid, the Alfred Fern house is for rent, isn’t it?”

“I think it must be, Lily,” replied Mr. Dallam.

“Sometimes I believe I’m losing my mind,” declared Mrs. Dallam.  “What an imbecile I was not to think of it!  It’s a dear, Honora, not five minutes from the Club, with the sweetest furniture, and they just finished it last fall.  It would be positively wicked not to take it, Howard.  They couldn’t have failed more opportunely.  I’m sorry for Alfred, but I always thought Louise Fern a little snob.  Sid, you must see Alfred down town the first thing in the morning and ask him what’s the least he’ll rent it for.  Tell him I wish to know.”

“But—­my dear Lily—­began Mr. Dallam apologetically.

“There!” complained his wife, “you’re always raising objections to my most charming and sensible plans.  You act as though you wanted Honora and Howard to stay in Rivington.”

“My dear Lily!” he protested again.  And words failing him, he sought by a gesture to disclaim such a sinister motive for inaction.

“What harm can it do?” she asked plaintively.  “Howard doesn’t have to rent the house, although it would be a sin if he didn’t.  Find out the rent in the morning, Sid, and we’ll all four go down on Sunday and look at it, and lunch at the Quicksands Club.  I’m sure I can get out of my engagement at Laura Dean’s—­this is so important.  What do you say, Honora?”

“I think it would be delightful,” said Honora.

CHAPTER V

QUICKSANDS

To convey any adequate idea of the community familiarly known as Quicksands a cinematograph were necessary.  With a pen we can only approximate the appearance of the shifting grains at any one time.  Some households there were, indeed, which maintained a precarious though seemingly miraculous footing on the surface, or near it, going under for mere brief periods, only to rise again and flaunt men-servants in the face of Providence.