asn't your
prophecy, mother. You said she was too plain to have a chance with our
fastidious host."

"Well, didn't she look forlorn last night at the dinner table?" demanded
Mrs. Evringham, a challenge in her voice.

"Indeed she did, the poor baby. She looked exactly as if she had two
female relatives in the house, neither of whom would lift a finger to
help her, even though she was just off a sick bed. The same relatives
don't know this minute how or where she spent the evening."

"I felt very glad she was content somewhere away from the drawing-room,"
returned Mrs. Evringham practically. "You know we expected Dr. Ballard
up to the moment the roses arrived, and from all I gathered at the
dinner table, it would have been awkward enough for him to walk in upon
that child. Besides, I don't see why you use that tone with me. It has
been your own choice to let her paddle her own canoe, and you've had an
object lesson now that I hope you won't forget. You wouldn't believe me
when I begged you to exert yourself for your grandfather, and now you
see even that plain little thing could get on with him just because she
dared take him by storm. She has about everything in her disfavor. The
child of a common working woman, with no beauty, and a little crank of
a Christian Scientist into the bargain, and yet now see! He took her
out to the stable to see Essex Maid! I never knew you contradictory and
disagreeable until lately, Eloise. You even act like a stick with Dr.
Ballard just to be perverse." Mrs. Evringham flounced over in bed, with
her back to the white negligee.

Eloise had seen what she had been watching for. Her grandfather had
driven away to the station, so she arose and came over to the foot of
the bed.

"I know I'm irritable, mother," she said repentantly. "The idleness and
uselessness of my life have grated on me until I know I'm not fit to
live with. If I had had any of the training of a society girl, I could
bear it better; but papa kept my head full of school,--for which I bless
him,--and now that the dream of college is hopeless, and that the
only profession you wish for me is marriage, I dread to wake up in the
mornings."

The young voice was unsteady.

Mrs. Evringham heaved a long sigh. "Give me patience!" she murmured,
then added mentally, "It can't be many days, and she won't refuse him."

"Go down to the piano and play yourself good-natured," she returned.
"Then come up and we'll go on with that char