. (He was
married.)

"Well, for one thing, she doesn't seem the sort of woman who'd care to
give up her career. She's so self-conscious that she must be selfish,
and then--she's older than he is."

"Good heavens, no! She doesn't look nineteen!"

"On the stage."

"Or off, either."

"Anyhow, some people in New York who know her awfully well told me that
she'd never see twenty-nine again. An actress of twenty-nine who can't
look nineteen had better go into a convent! Though, when you notice, her
mouth and eyes are hard, aren't they? What _would_ Max Doran's wonderful
mother say if her son married Billie Brookton?"

"Miss Brookton's father was a clergyman in Virginia. She told me so
herself," said the married partner.

"She _would_---- Oh, I don't mean to be catty. But she must have a
background that's a contrast--like that aunt of hers. I don't believe
she'd want to marry for years yet--a man who'd make her leave the stage.
She has the air of expecting the limelight to follow her everywhere
through life, and I'm sure Max Doran's gorgeous mother wouldn't let her
daughter-in-law go on acting, even if Max didn't mind."

"Max would mind. He'd never stand it," Max's brother officer informed
the girl who had been to New York. "Though he's so simple in his manner,
he's proud, I guess. But whether she's nineteen or twenty-nine, I don't
see how Billie could do better than take Max Doran, unless she could
snap up an English duke. And they say there aren't any unmarried ones
going at present. She'd be an addition to this post as a bride, wouldn't
she?"

"Ye-es," answered the girl, giving wonderful dramatic value to her
pause.

Just then the reign of the "Merry Widow" came to an end, and as soon
after as could be, the "Tango Trance" began. The band had practised it
in Miss Brookton's honour; and it had been ordered as the first dance
after her arrival. The aunt sat down, and Billie Brookton began
"tangoing" with Max Doran. They were a beautiful couple to watch; but of
course people had to keep up the farce of dancing, too. This was not,
after all, a theatre. One was supposed to have come for something else
than to stare at Billie Brookton without paying for a place.

"Your pearls," she whispered, as she and Doran danced the tango
together, taking graceful steps which she had taught him during the
fortnight they had known each other. "How do they look?"

"Glorious on _you_!" he answered. "And the ring has come. I telegr