ncholy.

Gather the idea, girls--all black, you know, with the preference for
_crepe de_--oh, _crepe de Chine_--that's it. All black, and that
sad, faraway look, and the hair shining under the black veil (you
have to be a blonde, of course), and try to look as if, although
your young life had been blighted just as it was about to give a
hop-skip-and-a-jump over the threshold of life, a walk in the park
might do you good, and be sure to happen out the door at the right
moment, and--oh, it'll fetch 'em every time. But it's fierce, now,
how cynical I am, ain't it?--to talk about mourning costumes this
way.

Mr. Donovan suddenly reinscribed Miss Conway upon the tablets of his
consideration. He threw away the remaining inch-and-a-quarter of his
cigar, that would have been good for eight minutes yet, and quickly
shifted his center of gravity to his low cut patent leathers.

"It's a fine, clear evening, Miss Conway," he said; and if the
Weather Bureau could have heard the confident emphasis of his tones
it would have hoisted the square white signal, and nailed it to the
mast.

"To them that has the heart to enjoy it, it is, Mr. Donovan," said
Miss Conway, with a sigh.

Mr. Donovan, in his heart, cursed fair weather. Heartless weather!
It should hail and blow and snow to be consonant with the mood of
Miss Conway.

"I hope none of your relatives--I hope you haven't sustained a
loss?" ventured Mr. Donovan.

"Death has claimed," said Miss Conway, hesitating--"not a relative,
but one who--but I will not intrude my grief upon you, Mr. Donovan."

"Intrude?" protested Mr. Donovan. "Why, say, Miss Conway, I'd be
delighted, that is, I'd be sorry--I mean I'm sure nobody could
sympathize with you truer than I would."

Miss Conway smiled a little smile. And oh, it was sadder than her
expression in repose.

"'Laugh, and the world laughs with you; weep, and they give you the
laugh,'" she quoted. "I have learned that, Mr. Donovan. I have no
friends or acquaintances in this city. But you have been kind to me.
I appreciate it highly."

He had passed her the pepper twice at the table.

"It's tough to be alone in New York--that's a cinch," said Mr.
Donovan. "But, say--whenever this little old town does loosen up and
get friendly it goes the limit. Say you took a little stroll in the
park, Miss Conway--don't you think it might chase away some of your
mullygrubs? And if you'd allow me--"

"Thanks, Mr. Donovan. I'd be pleased to a