mall
features, indeterminate in form and incoherent in assemblage, expressed
to an extraordinary degree determination and strategy. She faced the
great woman.

"Baroness," she said, in swift yet deliberate tones; "allow me to
present myself; Mrs. Hamilton K. Slifer. We have mutual friends; Mrs.
Tollman, Mrs. General Tollman of St. Louis, Missouri. She had the
pleasure of meeting you in Paris some years ago. An old family friend of
ours. My girls, Baroness; Maude and Beatrice. They won't forget this
day. We're simply wild about you, Baroness. We were at your concert the
other night." Maude, the lean and tawny, and Beatrice, the dark and
pretty, had followed deftly in their mother's wake and were smiling,
Maude with steely brightness, Beatrice with nonchalant assurance, at
Madame von Marwitz.

"_Bon Dieu!_" the great woman muttered. She gazed away from the Slifers
and about her with helpless consternation. Then, slightly bowing her
head and murmuring: "I thank you, Madam," she moved on, her friends
closing round her. Miss Scrotton, pale with wrath, put the Slifers aside
as she passed them.

"Well, girls, I knew I could do it!" Mrs. Slifer ejaculated, drawing a
deep breath. They stood near Gregory, and Beatrice, who had adjusted her
camera, was taking a series of snaps of the retreating celebrity. "We've
met her, anyway, and perhaps if she ever comes on deck we'll get another
chance. That's a real impertinent woman she's got with her. Did you see
her try and shove me back?"

"Never mind, mother," said Beatrice, who was evidently easy-going; "I
snapped her as she did it and she looked ugly enough to turn milk sour.
My! do look at that girl with the queer cap and the big dog. She's a
freak and no mistake! Stand back, Maude, and let me have a shot at her."

"Why, I believe it's the adopted daughter!" Maude exclaimed. "Don't you
remember. She was in the front row and we heard those people talking
about her. I think she's _distinguee_ myself. She looks like a Russian
countess."

It was indeed Miss Woodruff who had arrived and Gregory, whose eyes
followed the Slifers', was aware of a sudden emotion on seeing her. It
was the emotion of his dream, touched and startled and sweet, and even
more than in his dream she made him think of a Hans Andersen heroine
with the little sealskin cap on her fair hair, and a long furred coat
reaching to her ankles. She stood holding Victor by a leash, looking
about her with a certain anxiet