honeymoon has to come
afterward." Then, seeing that Mrs. West was looking at her with a look
that might mean astonishment or disapproval, she blushed. It was queer,
but for a minute that pretty, quite young woman--if widows could be
called _quite_ young--had an expression almost like Grandma's.

"Oh, I do hope I haven't said anything horrid?" Barrie appealed from one
to another. "You see, I never dared say anything at all about love
before Grandma or Heppie, but it is talked about so _much_ in books, I
thought I might mention it in company. I'm sorry if I've not been
maidenly, which Miss Hepburn is always telling me I'm not."

"I suspect most maidens think a good deal about love whether or no they
talk of it, don't they, Norman?" said Somerled.

"How should I know?" Basil asked.

Both men were different from their everyday selves to-night. They seemed
self-conscious.

"Why, it's your business to know. You write novels. Or do you leave all
the love parts to your sister?"

"I suppose widows may talk as much as they like about love," said Barrie
reflectively, "having had it and passed it by."

The creature was pretending to take for granted that widows were poor,
_passee_ things who had lived their lives and could have no more
personal interest in heather moons or honeymoons! Mrs. West grew pale,
and was angry with herself for caring. Barrie made her feel faded--a
"back number." She told herself that if she could not get rid of this
girl the first thing to-morrow, she should be ill.

"You must ask your mother these questions, and she'll answer them better
than I can," Aline said in her pretty voice, with her gentle smile.

Already she had heard from Barrie and from Somerled something of the
girl's story, and knew that through family misunderstandings mother and
daughter had been separated for years. "You must be _so_ impatient to
see her!" she went on.

"I am," said Barrie.

"I know Sir George Alexander a little," Aline answered. "He may take a
curtain-raiser of ours; and it's occurred to me to telegraph him in the
morning, as soon as the post-office opens. He'll be able to let us know
where Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald's acting. We won't trust to the stage
papers alone. It would be a pity to keep this child in suspense a minute
longer than necessary. Don't you think it's a good plan, Mr. Somerled?"

"Very," he agreed. It was a good plan. And it _would_ be a pity to keep
the child in suspense. The pretty doll mu