hen funds were low and engagements scarce, she would
appeal to him again, and his solicitors would reply. He caught himself
framing curt, stinging sentences to be embodied in the letter; but he
drew himself up with a start. Surely there was something very wrong
with Mark Bower, the millionaire, when he gloated over such paltry
details. Why, his reflections were worthy of that old spitfire, Mrs.
de Courcy Vavasour.

His cigar had gone out. He threw it away. It had the taste of
Millicent's cheap passion. A decanter of brandy stood on the table,
and he drank a small quantity, though he had imbibed freely of
champagne at luncheon. He glanced at a mirror. His face was flushed
and care lined, and he scowled at his own apparition.

"I must go and see the last of Millicent. It will cheer me up," he
said to himself.

When he entered the foyer, Millicent was already in the veranda, a
dainty picture in furs and feathers. Somewhat to his surprise, Helen
was with her. A good many people were watching them covertly, a quite
natural proceeding in view of their strained relations overnight.

[Illustration: "It will paralyze the dowager brigade if we hug each
other."
_Page 309_]

Millicent's first action after quitting the _salle a manger_ had been
to worm out of Leontine the full, true, and particular history of Etta
Stampa, or so much of the story as was known to the hotel servants.
The recital was cut short by Helen's visit, but resumed during
packing operations, as Millicent had enlarged her store of knowledge
considerably during the process of reconciliation.

So, alive to possibilities going far beyond a single check, even for
five thousand pounds, at the last moment she sent a message to Helen.

"Come and see me off," she wrote. "It will simply paralyze
the dowager brigade if we hug each other on the mat."

Helen agreed. She was not sorry that her critics should be paralyzed,
or stupefied, or rendered incapable in some way of inflicting further
annoyance. In her present radiant mood, nearly all her troubles having
taken unto themselves wings, she looked on yesterday's episode in the
light of a rather far fetched joke. Bower stood so high in her esteem
that she was sure the outspoken announcement of his intentions was
dictated chiefly by anger at Millicent's unfair utterances. Perhaps he
had some thought of marriage; but he must seek a wife in a more
exalted sphere. She felt in