t, when they were married, they would live in a flat--probably in
one overlooking Central Park, on Central Park West. He knew of several
attractive suites there at thirty-five dollars a week--or, if she
preferred the suburbs, he would forsake his beloved New York and return
to the country. In his gratitude to her for being what she was, he
conceded even that sacrifice.

When he reached New York, from the speculators he bought front-row seats
at five dollars for the two most popular plays in town. He put them away
carefully in his waistcoat pocket. Possession of them made him feel that
already he had obtained an option on six hours of complete happiness.

After she left Sam, Sister Anne passed hurriedly through the hospital to
the matron's room and, wrapping herself in a raccoon coat, made her way
to a waiting motor car and said, "Home!" to the chauffeur. He drove
her to the Flagg family vault, as Flagg's envious millionaire neighbors
called the pile of white marble that topped the highest hill above
Greenwich, and which for years had served as a landfall to mariners on
the Sound.

There were a number of people at tea when she arrived and they greeted
her noisily.

"I have had a most splendid adventure!" said Sister Anne. "There were
six of us, you know, dressed up as Red Cross nurses, and we gave away
programmes. Well, one of the New York reporters thought I was a real
nurse and interviewed me about the Home. Of course I knew enough about
it to keep it up, and I kept it up so well that he was terribly sorry
for me; and...."

One of the tea drinkers was little Hollis Holworthy, who prided himself
on knowing who's who in New York. He had met Sam Ward at first nights
and prize fights. He laughed scornfully.

"Don't you believe it!" he interrupted. "That man who was talking to you
was Sam Ward. He's the smartest newspaper man in New York; he was
just leading you on. Do you suppose there's a reporter in America who
wouldn't know you in the dark? Wait until you see the Sunday paper."

Sister Anne exclaimed indignantly.

"He did not know me!" she protested. "It quite upset him that I should
be wasting my life measuring out medicines and making beds."

There was a shriek of disbelief and laughter.

"I told him," continued Sister Anne, "that I got forty dollars a month,
and he said I could make more as a typewriter; and I said I preferred to
be a manicurist."

"Oh, Anita!" protested the admiring chorus.

"And he w