--"

As they motored to Winifred's, Eve spoke of his quiet mood. "Why don't
you talk, Dicky?"

"It has been a busy day--I'll wake up presently and realize that I am
here."

It was before he went down-stairs at the Dutton-Ames that he had a moment
alone with Jimmie Ford.

Jimmie was not in the best of moods. Winifred had asked him a week ago to
join a choice quartette which included Pip and Eve. Of course Meade made
a troublesome fourth, but Jimmie's conceit saved him from realizing the
real fact of the importance of the plain and heavy Pip to that group. And
now, things had been shifted, so that Eve had stayed to talk to a country
doctor, and he had been left to the callow company of an indefinite
debutante whom Winifred had invited to fill the vacancy.

"When did you come down, Brooks?" he asked coldly.

"This morning."

"Nice old place of yours in Harford."

"Yes."

"Owned it long?"

"Several generations."

"Oh, ancestral halls, and all that----?"

"Yes."

"I saw Cynthia Warfield's picture on the wall--used to know the family
down in Carroll--our old estates joined--Anne Warfield and I were brought
up together."

They had reached the head of the stairway. Richard stopped and stood
looking down. "Anne Warfield?"

"Yes. Surprised to find her teaching. I fancy they've been pretty hard
up--grandfather drank, and all that, you know."

"I didn't know." It was now Richard's turn to speak coldly.

"Oh, yes, ran through with all their money. Years ago. Anne's a little
queen. Engaged to her once myself, you know. Boy and girl affair, broken
off----"

Below them in the hall, Richard could see the women with whom he was to
sup. Shining, shimmering figures in silk and satin and tulle. For these,
softness and ease of living. And that other one! Oh, the cheap little
gown, the braided hair! Before he had known her she had been Jimmie's and
now she was Geoffrey's. And he had fatuously thought himself the first.

He threw himself uproariously into the fun which followed. After all, it
was good to be with them again, good to hear the familiar talk of people
and of things, good to eat and drink and be merry in the fashion of the
town, good to have this taste of the old tumultuous life.

He and Eve went home together. Philip's honest face clouded as he saw
them off. "Don't run away with her, Brooks," he said, as he leaned in to
have a last look at her. "Good-night, little lady."

"Good-night."

It was when t