s is news as is news. Congratulations. And I am coming right down as
soon as I get my breath. And then you two must come to see me.

"Norma Whitmore."

Eugene was pleased and grateful that she took it so nicely, but Angela
was the least big chagrined secretly that he had not told her before.
Why hadn't he? Was this someone that he was interested in? Those three
years in which she had doubtingly waited for Eugene had whetted her
suspicions and nurtured her fears. Still she tried to make little of it
and to put on an air of joyousness. She would be so glad to meet Miss
Whitmore. Eugene told her how kind she had been to him, how much she
admired his art, how helpful she was in bringing together young literary
and artistic people and how influential with those who counted. She
could do him many a good turn. Angela listened patiently, but she was
just the least bit resentful that he should think so much of any one
woman outside of herself. Why should he, Eugene Witla, be dependent on
the favor of any woman? Of course she must be very nice and they would
be good friends, but--

Norma came one afternoon two days later with the atmosphere of
enthusiasm trailing, as it seemed to Eugene, like a cloud of glory about
her. She was both fire and strength to him in her regard and sympathy,
even though she resented, ever so slightly, his affectional desertion.

"You piggy-wiggy Eugene Witla," she exclaimed. "What do you mean by
running off and getting married and never saying a word. I never even
had a chance to get you a present and now I have to bring it. Isn't this
a charming place--why it's perfectly delightful," and as she laid her
present down unopened she looked about to see where Mrs. Eugene Witla
might be.

Angela was in the bedroom finishing her toilet. She was expecting this
descent and so was prepared, being suitably dressed in the light green
house gown. When she heard Miss Whitmore's familiar mode of address she
winced, for this spoke volumes for a boon companionship of long
endurance. Eugene hadn't said so much of Miss Whitmore in the past as he
had recently, but she could see that they were very intimate. She looked
out and saw her--this tall, not very shapely, but graceful woman, whose
whole being represented dynamic energy, awareness, subtlety of
perception. Eugene was shaking her hand and looking genially into her
face.

"Why should Eugene like her so much?" she asked herself instantly. "Why
did his face sh