eded to invent tact
if it had not first invented social complications.

It had been understood, with his good-night to Miss Viner, that the next
morning he was to look up the Joigny trains, and see her safely to
the station; but, while he breakfasted and waited for a time-table, he
recalled again her cry of joy at the prospect of seeing Cerdine. It was
certainly a pity, since that most elusive and incalculable of artists
was leaving the next week for South America, to miss what might be a
last sight of her in her greatest part; and Darrow, having dressed and
made the requisite excerpts from the time-table, decided to carry the
result of his deliberations to his neighbour's door.

It instantly opened at his knock, and she came forth looking as if she
had been plunged into some sparkling element which had curled up all her
drooping tendrils and wrapped her in a shimmer of fresh leaves.

"Well, what do you think of me?" she cried; and with a hand at her waist
she spun about as if to show off some miracle of Parisian dress-making.

"I think the missing trunk has come--and that it was worth waiting for!"

"You DO like my dress?"

"I adore it! I always adore new dresses--why, you don't mean to say it's
NOT a new one?"

She laughed out her triumph.

"No, no, no! My trunk hasn't come, and this is only my old rag of
yesterday--but I never knew the trick to fail!" And, as he stared: "You
see," she joyously explained, "I've always had to dress in all kinds of
dreary left-overs, and sometimes, when everybody else was smart and
new, it used to make me awfully miserable. So one day, when Mrs. Murrett
dragged me down unexpectedly to fill a place at dinner, I suddenly
thought I'd try spinning around like that, and say to every one: 'WELL,
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF ME?' And, do you know, they were all taken in,
including Mrs. Murrett, who didn't recognize my old turned and dyed
rags, and told me afterward it was awfully bad form to dress as if I
were somebody that people would expect to know! And ever since, whenever
I've particularly wanted to look nice, I've just asked people what they
thought of my new frock; and they're always, always taken in!"

She dramatized her explanation so vividly that Darrow felt as if his
point were gained.

"Ah, but this confirms your vocation--of course," he cried, "you must
see Cerdine!" and, seeing her face fall at this reminder of the change
in her prospects, he hastened to set forth his plan. As