heir ride uptown was marked by its atmosphere of distant and
dispassionate civility. They spoke infrequently, and then on indifferent
topics soon suffered to languish. In due course, however, Staff mastered
his resentment and--as evidenced by his wry, secret smile--began to take
a philosophic view of the situation, to extract some slight amusement
from his insight into Alison's mental processes. Intuitively sensing
this, she grew even more exasperated with him--as well as with everybody
aside from her own impeccable self.

At the St. Simon, Staff soberly escorted the woman to the lounge,
meaning to leave her there while he enquired for Eleanor at the office;
but they had barely set foot in the apartment when their names were
shrieked at them in an excitable, shrill, feminine voice, and Mrs.
Ilkington bore down upon them in full regalia of sensation.

"My dears!" she cried, regarding them affectionately--"such a surprise!
Such a delightful surprise! And so good of you to come to see me so
soon! And opportune--I'm dying, positively expiring, for somebody to
gossip with. Such a singular thing has happened--"

Alison interrupted bluntly: "Where's Miss Searle? Mr. Staff is anxious
to see her."

"That's just it--_just_ what I want to talk about. You'd never guess
what that girl has done--and after all the trouble and thought I've
taken in her behalf, too! I'm disgusted, positively and finally
disgusted; never again will I interest myself in such people. I--"

"But where is Miss Searle?" demanded Alison, with a significant look to
Staff.

"Gone!" announced Mrs. Ilkington impressively.

"Gone?" echoed Staff.

Mrs. Ilkington nodded vigorously, compressing her lips to a thin line of
disapproval. "I'm positively at my wits' end to account for her."

"I fancy there's an explanation, however," Alison put in.

"I wish you'd tell me, then.... You see, we dined out, went to the
theatre and supper together, last night. The Struyvers asked me, and I
made them include her, of course. We got back about one. Of course, my
dears, I was fearfully tired and didn't get up till half an hour ago.
Imagine my sensation when I enquired for Miss Searle and was informed
that she paid her bill and left at five o'clock this _morning_, and with
_a strange man!_"

"She left you a note, of course?" Staff suggested.

"Not a line--nothing! I might be the dirt beneath her feet, the way
she's treated me. I'm thoroughly disillusioned--disgusted!"