ance of long experience of such scenes, and admired her more than
ever. Her perfect gown and the graceful way she carried her dark head
with its jeweled band convinced the impressionable Patricia that this
sumptuous creature was far too high above her for criticism, and her
cheeks flushed at Judith's presumption.

It was delightful to her to see how agreeable everyone was to Rosamond.
She was stopped a dozen times in her passage of the wide apartment, and
she joined the group about Madam Milano with three attractive men in her
wake. Patricia found it very exciting. She thought of the dances at the
Tennis Club with something like scorn, and even the parties at the
studio last winter seemed to pale before this splendid entertainment.

After an hour she began to change her mind, however, and she looked
about for any sign of Rosamond in vain. There was no one in the rooms
she knew. She could not even see her hostess, whose peculiar head-dress
and angular shoulders she was sure she could recognize at any distance.
Madame Milano had not sung and there seemed, from the lively hum of
conversation that rose above the music of the famous orchestra, little
hope of it.

She felt suddenly very lonely. These strangers with their indifferent
stares made her more uncomfortable than she had ever been in her life.
She longed to be able to speak one word to some friendly creature. And
then, just as she was actually about to rise and flee to the shelter of
the dressing-room, there was a stir, and the soft undertone of the
orchestra stopped in the middle of a Hungarian Czarda.

Patricia leaned forward. Rosamond was going to sing!

Her loneliness dropped from her and her face shone. She drank in the
trills and flourishes of the selection which her friend had chosen as
though the notes were golden ambrosia. After Rosamond had ended her song
and gracefully yet firmly declined an encore Patricia was still glowing.

She came to herself, though, when a woman near her, without lowering her
voice, said with an amused look, "I'm glad that nice child in the corner
is looking happier. It's positively cruel to allow so young a girl to
mope about like that."

Patricia retained enough of her spirit to look the amused lady calmly in
the eyes, while her pretty tipped-up nose assumed a more sprightly
angle. That made her feel much better, and after Madame Milano had
poured out the liquid jewels of her faultless voice, she felt better
still.

She wa