t."
She laughed. "But if he marries any one while I am gone, I shall hate
him."

And then they both laughed.

"I'll wager another magnum," cried Merrihew from across the room, "that
I'm the subject under discussion."

"Another magnum!" murmured O'Mally rapturously.

"No more magnums," said Kitty resolutely.

"On abstract principles, then!" insisted Merrihew.

"You win," Kitty replied merrily. "We have been saying only nice things
about you."

It was outrageously late, nearly four, when the revelers took leave of
their hostess. Merrihew was happy with that evanescent happiness which
goes hand in glove with late suppers and magnums. In the morning he
would have a headache.

"Isn't she a little wonder, Jack? Do you blame me?"

"Not at all, Dan. It might be a good thing for you to marry a sensible
little woman like that. But she won't have you."

"No, she won't." Merrihew reached for his watch. "Four A.M. Wonder if we
can't find another bottle somewhere."

"You are going home, my boy."

"All right, if you say so,"--good-humoredly. "Say, what do you think of
that man Worth?"

"Very good voice; but he's too handsome. Being a plain duffer myself, I
don't take kindly to handsome men."

"Oh, go on! You're as fine a looking chap as there's in New York. But
this man Worth has the looks of a lady-killer. He's been eying Kitty,
but it doesn't go. Hang it, I can't see why she won't marry me now.
She's got to, some time or other."

"You must have patience."

"Or more money. Can't O'Mally tell a good story, though?"

"Good company, too; but I should hate to turn him loose in my
wine-cellars. I imagine that he's not a connoisseur, and will praise
anything that's good to drink, unless it's water."

Merrihew roared.

"Well, here's your station, Dan. You go home like a good boy. Shall I
see you to-morrow?"

"Eight-thirty in the park. Gallop off headache. Nothing like a horse for
a headache. Good night."

Merrihew climbed the elevated stairs and vanished. Hillard arrived home
tired and sleepy; but as he saw a letter on the stand in the hall, his
drowsiness passed quickly. There was no other blue envelope like it. She
now had his house address; she was interested enough to look it up. She
did not follow his lead and write in Italian; she wrote in
English--crisp English, too. Again there was neither beginning nor
ending. But this was a letter; there was something here of the woman,
something to read and read agai