nter briskness of
the packed and brilliant Avenue, she telephoned Leslie at about the
luncheon hour. Leslie when last they met had said that she would
confidently expect Norma to run out and lunch with her some day--any
day.

"Who is it?" Leslie's voice asked, irritably, when at last the telephone
connection was established. "Oh, _Norma_! Oh----? What is it?"

"Just wondering how you all were, and what the family news is," Norma
said, with an uncomfortable inclination to falter.

"I don't _hear_ you!" Leslie protested, impatiently. The insignificant
inquiry did not seem to gain much by repetition, and Norma's cheeks
burned in shame when Leslie followed it by a blank little pause.
"Oh--everyone's fine. The baby wasn't well, but she's all right now."

Another slight pause, then Norma said:

"She must be adorable--I'd like to see her."

"She's not here now," Leslie answered, quickly.

"I've been shopping," Norma said. "Any chance that you could come down
town and lunch with me?"

"No, I really couldn't, to-day!" Leslie answered, lightly and promptly.

A moment later Norma said good-bye. She walked away from the telephone
booth with her face burning, and her heart beating quickly with anger
and resentment.

"Snob--snob--snob!" she said to herself, furiously, of Leslie. And of
herself she presently added honestly, "And I wasn't much better, for I
don't really like her any more than she does me!" And she stopped for
flowers, and a little box of pastry, and went out to delight her Aunt
Kate's heart with an unexpected visit.

But a sting remained, and Norma brooded over the injustice of life, as
she went about her little house in the wintry sunlight, and listened to
Wolf, and made much of Rose and the new baby girl. By Thanksgiving it
seemed to her that she had only dreamed of "Aida" and of Newport, and
that the Norma of the wonderful frocks and the wonderful dreams had been
only a dream herself.

CHAPTER XXVIII

And then suddenly she was delighted to have a friendly little note from
Alice, asking her to come to luncheon on a certain December Friday, as
there was "a tiny bit of business" that she would like to discuss; Chris
was away, she would be alone. Norma accepted with no more than ordinary
politeness, and showed neither Wolf nor his mother any elation, but she
felt a deep satisfaction in the renewed relationship.

On the appointed Friday, at one o'clock, she mounted the familiar steps
of the Chri