ious cherries, in his usual
indolent manner. Nothing in this world was worth a hurry or a worry,
according to this young man's creed. He had dawdled through the party,
waltzing with a languid grace that most girls considered the essence of
high-breeding. It was all one to him. His "set" affected to think life
something of a bore. Intense emotion of any kind was vulgar.

"By the by, Rene," said Mrs. Eastman, "do you suppose Sylvie Barry is
engaged to that Darcy fellow? It was odd that she should go off on a
picnic with him, instead of the party. She has the queerest, mixed-up
tastes."

"What Darcy fellow?" asked Irene in surprise.

"Sylvie Barry! Jack Darcy!" exclaimed Fred, in as much amazement as his
superfine breeding would allow.

Mrs. Eastman gave a mellifluous laugh.

"Don't you remember? but you were such a child! Fred does. The Damon to
his Pythias."

"Oh!"

A vivid scarlet ran up to the edge of Irene's white brow. So that was
Jack Darcy. What a blind fool she had been, _not_ to think! She had
laughed and chatted with him, smiled on him, worn the costume of his
designing,--a common workingman! For a moment she could have torn her
hair, or beaten her slender white hands against the table. What had
possessed her?

"I do recall some green and salad days," rejoined Fred with a laugh.

"How Agatha and I used to badger you! We were little fools to think such
a thing ever went on when one came to years of discretion. Only I
believe we were afraid the elder and idiotic Darcy might foist his son
on some college. I must say Yerbury has become quite endurable now that
party lines have been set up;" and Mrs. Eastman crumbed her cake,
watching her diamond sparkle.

"How do you know Sylvie went on a picnic?" asked Rene, with an angry
glitter in her eyes.

"Didn't the dear confess? Rene, you do not keep your penitent in very
good order."

Mrs. Eastman had a faculty of putting something extremely irritating in
her voice. It was honey smooth, and yet it rasped.

"Really," answered Irene indifferently, "I do not see that Miss Barry's
selection of friends need affect me much, so long as she keeps the
distasteful ones out of my way. I may wonder at her choice of pleasures,
but I suppose she suits herself."

"My nursery-girl belongs to the mission-school. It was very good of
Lissette to let her off for a whole day, I thought. I left her to settle
it. What Sylvie sees in such people, I cannot imagine. I own I was a