ated out on the night air:

"But the waves still are singing to the shore As they sang in the happy
days of yore--"

To these and a thousand less sharply defined noises, to the constant,
steady flicking of stiff pages in Miss Toland's room, Julia fell asleep.

Miss Toland told her family of the arrangement some three months later.
She met her sister-in-law and oldest niece downtown for luncheon one day
in November, and when the ladies had ordered their luncheon and piled
superfluous wraps and parcels upon a fourth chair, Barbara, staring
about the Palm Room, and resting her chin on one slender wrist, asked
indifferently:

"And how's The Alexander, Aunt Sanna?"

"Why don't you come and see?" asked her aunt briskly. "You've all
deserted me, and I don't know whether I'm on speaking terms with you or
not! We're getting on splendidly. Nineteen girls in our Tuesday evening
club; mothers' meetings a great success. I've captured a rare little
personality in Julia."

She enlarged upon the theme: Julia's industry, her simplicity, her
natural sympathy with and comprehension of the class from which the
frequenters of The Alexander were drawn. Mrs. Toland listened smilingly,
her bright eyes roving the room constantly. Barbara did not listen at
all; she studied the scene about her sombrely, with heavy-lidded eyes.

Barbara was at an age when exactly those things that a certain small
group of her contemporaries did, said, and thought, made all her world.
She wished to be with these young people all the time; she wished for
nothing else, to-day she was heartsick because there was to be a weekend
house party to which she was not invited. A personal summons from the
greatest queen of Europe would have meant nothing to Barbara to-day,
except for its effect upon the little circle she desired so eagerly to
impress. Parents, sisters, and brothers, nature, science, and art, were
but pale shapes about her. The burning fact was that Elinor Sparrow had
asked the others down for tennis Saturday and to stay overnight, and had
asked her, Barbara, to join them on Sunday for luncheon--

"Tell Aunt Sanna about the wedding, dear!" commanded Mrs. Toland
suddenly. Barbara smiled with mechanical brightness.

"Oh, it was lovely! Every one was there. Georgie looked stunning--ever
so much prettier than Hazel!" she said, rather lifelessly.

"Tell Aunt Sanna who got the bride's bouquet!"

"Oh," Barbara again assumed an expression of animation. "Oh,