regular, her
face oval, if too thin--with the thinness of one who is underfed. And
this appearance of being poorly nourished showed in her skin, which was
pallid, except where she had touched it on cheeks and chin with rouge.
A neck a trifle too long and too lean was accentuated by a wide boyish
collar of some starched material. But her eyes were fine--not large,
but dark and lustrous under their black brows and heavy lashes. Worn
in waves that testified to the use of the curling-iron, her yellow hair
was in striking contrast to them. But this bright tint was plainly the
result of bleaching. And both hair and rouge served to emphasize lines
in her face that had not been made by time--lines of want, and
struggle, and suffering; lines of experience. These showed mostly
about her mouth, a thin mouth made more pronounced by the cautious use
of the lip-stick.

"My dear," beamed Mrs. Milo, "are you singing away as hard as ever?"

"Oh, I have a great many weddings," declared the other, with a note
that was somewhat bragging.

Mrs. Milo looked down at the long, slender, ungloved hand still held in
one of hers. "Ah," she went on, playfully teasing, "but I see you're
not always going to sing at other girls' weddings."

Miss Crosby pulled her hand free, and thrust it behind her among the
folds of her skirt. "Well,--I--I----" She gave a sudden frightened
look around, as if seeking some way of escape.

Sue was quick to her rescue. "Don't you want to wait with the choir?"
she asked, waving a hand. "--You, too, Hattie."

Mrs. Milo seemed not to notice the singer's confusion. And when the
latter disappeared with Hattie, she appealed to Sue, beaming with
excitement. "Did you notice?" she asked. "A solitaire! She's engaged
to be married!"

"Married!" echoed Sue, and shook her head.

"Oh, yes. You're thinking of the Balconies. Well, now you see why
I've never felt too badly about your not taking the step."

"You mean that most marriages----?"

"It's a lottery--a lottery." Mrs. Milo sighed.

"But your marriage--yours and father's----"

"My marriage was a great exception--a very great exception."

"And there's Hattie and Wallace," went on Sue. "Oh, it would be too
terrible----"

"There are few men as good as my son," said Mrs. Milo, proudly; "--you
darling boy!" For Wallace had entered the room.

He came to them quickly. His pale face was unwontedly anxious.

"Is anything wrong?" questioned Sue.

"