lmorian about the scheme. It would be time enough to
sever herself from the boarding-house which had been her home for three
years when she had found the apartment. Meanwhile, the decent thing to
do, if she did not want to brand herself in the sight of her conscience
as a female Fillmore, was to go back temporarily to Mrs. Meecher's
admirable establishment and foregather with her old friends. After all,
home is where the heart is, even if there are more prunes there than the
gourmet would consider judicious.

Perhaps it was the unavoidable complacency induced by the thought
that she was doing the right thing, or possibly it was the tingling
expectation of meeting Gerald Foster again after all these weeks of
separation, that made the familiar streets seem wonderfully bright as
she drove through them. It was a perfect, crisp New York morning, all
blue sky and amber sunshine, and even the ash-cans had a stimulating
look about them. The street cars were full of happy people rollicking
off to work: policemen directed the traffic with jaunty affability:
and the white-clad street-cleaners went about their poetic tasks with a
quiet but none the less noticeable relish. It was improbable that any of
these people knew that she was back, but somehow they all seemed to be
behaving as though this were a special day.

The first discordant note in this overture of happiness was struck by
Mrs. Meecher, who informed Sally, after expressing her gratification
at the news that she required her old room, that Gerald Foster had left
town that morning.

"Gone to Detroit, he has," said Mrs. Meecher. "Miss Doland, too." She
broke off to speak a caustic word to the boarding-house handyman,
who, with Sally's trunk as a weapon, was depreciating the value of the
wall-paper in the hall. "There's that play of his being tried out there,
you know, Monday," resumed Mrs. Meecher, after the handyman had bumped
his way up the staircase. "They been rehearsing ever since you left."

Sally was disappointed, but it was such a beautiful morning, and New
York was so wonderful after the dull voyage in the liner that she was
not going to allow herself to be depressed without good reason. After
all, she could go on to Detroit tomorrow. It was nice to have something
to which she could look forward.

"Oh, is Elsa in the company?" she said.

"Sure. And very good too, I hear." Mrs. Meecher kept abreast of
theatrical gossip. She was an ex-member of the profession h