gn
corresponding. Mr. Wentworth and his wife were already domiciled at
B----, and the young people were going over to enjoy the winter
festivities. Phyllis was unchanged. How like Gretchen, I thought.

While Ethel was engaging my cousin's attention, I conducted Phyllis
through the office.

"What a place to work in!" said Phyllis, laughing. The laugh awakened
a vague thrill. "Dust, dust; everywhere dust. You need a woman to
look after you, Jack?"

As I did not reply, she looked quickly at me, and seeing that my face
was grave, she flushed.

"Forgive me, Jack," impulsively; "I did not think."

I answered her with a reassuring smile.

"How long are you to remain in town?" I asked, to disembarrass her.

"We leave day after to-morrow, Saturday. A day or two in Paris, and
then we go on. Every one in New York is talking about your book. I
knew that you were capable."

"I hope every one is buying it," said I, passing over her last
observation.

"Was it here that you wrote it?"

"Oh, no; it was written in my rooms, under the most favorable
circumstances."

"I thought so. This is a very dreary place."

"Perhaps I like it for that very reason."

Her eyes were two interrogation points, but I pretended not to see.

"What nice eyes your cousin has," she said, side glancing.

With a woman it is always a man's eyes.

"And his father was the man who left you the fortune?"

"Yes," I answered, with a short laugh. Of course, I had never told
Phyllis of that thousand-dollar check.

"You must run over this winter and see us," she said. "I anticipate
nothing but dinners, balls and diplomatic receptions. I have never
been there, it will all be new to me. Think of seeing Egypt, the Holy
Lands, Russia, France and Spain, and yet not seeing the very heart of
the continent! Thank goodness, I know the language."

"And will she not be a sensation?" joined in Ethel.

"A decided sensation," said I, scrutinizing the beautiful face so near
me. What if they met, as probably they would--Phyllis and Gretchen?
"Phyllis," said I, suddenly, "where were you born?"

"Where was I born?" with a wondering little laugh; "in America. Where
did you suppose?"

"Eden," said I. "I wasn't sure, so I asked."

"I do not know how to take that," she said, with mock severity.

"Oh, I meant Eden when it was Paradise," I hastened to say.

"Yes," put in Pembroke; "please go back, Miss Landors, and begin the
world all over again."