en he was rushing
Suzanne so violently. Perhaps she turned him down."

"Lucky for her if she did," growled Vernon. "He's a pretty-average
cad, if you want to know; I don't believe he'll show up again in a
hurry."

"Why----!" Angie's eyes gleamed. "What has he done, Vernie? Is there
going to be a scandal?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, my dear girl." He rose. "The incident is
closed, and there won't be even a whisper to delight your ears.
However, you can take it from me that Suzanne has seen the last of one
little playmate. I'm going to bed; you have interrupted the flow
of--of oily meditation."

"Wait a minute, Vernie. You and Father are so prejudiced that it's
scarcely worth while trying to talk to you, but mother has enough to
worry about as it is, with Willa on her hands. Besides, I--I couldn't
very well explain how I happened to see her, but I should like to know
what Willa was doing in a horrid little frame house out on the Parkway
at five o'clock this afternoon."

Vernon stared.

"Don't believe it. Someone's been stringing you. She doesn't know a
soul in town--er, that is, no one but the few she has run into
informally here."

"But I tell you I saw her myself! She was just coming out as I motored
past."

"I say, what were you doing out there yourself? I thought you went to
a matinee."

Angie grimaced.

"I went out to the Bumble Bee Inn for tea. You needn't be a prig about
it! Lots of really nice people go, and what's the harm?" She picked
up her gloves and trailed to the door. "I suppose you'll ask who I was
with next, and I sha'n't tell you, my dear. I'm bored to death doing
the same old proper thing all the time! Sweet dreams!"

Vernon looked after her for a moment with real anxiety in his eyes.
One of them was enough to be kicking over the traces; it wouldn't do
for Angie to start. However, that was her own affair. . . . He
shrugged, and, picking up his book, switched off the light.

Life was beginning to round out for Willa, if a multiplicity of demands
upon her time and interest could satisfy her eager impulses. There
were still moments of homesickness, and crises of unrest when she would
gladly have forsworn the stifling hot-house existence and gone back to
the joyous freedom of Limasito days, had it not been for her secret
project. That alone held her to her course and would so hold her until
her purpose was achieved.

The eventful night which was to mark her first a