re, drink this! I've
been insane,--absolutely out of my mind! Let me take off your hat--Oh,
your poor feet--I was on my way to--I was afraid you might have--Oh,
Sylvia, Sylvia, to have you safe!" She tried to bring to mind
something she had intended to remember; she even repeated the phrase
over to herself, "It was an ugly, ugly thing to have married Molly,"
but she knew only that he was tenderness and sheltering care and
warmth and food and safety. She drew long quivering breaths like a
child coming out of a sobbing fit.

Then before there was time for more thought, the car had whirled them
back to the door, where Aunt Victoria, outwardly calm, but very pale,
stood between the concierge and his wife, looking out into the rainy
deserted street.

At the touch of those warm embracing arms, at that radiant presence,
at the sound of that relieved, welcoming voice, the nightmare of the
Pantheon faded away to blackness....

Half an hour later, she sat, fresh from a hot bath, breathing out
delicately a reminiscence of recent violet water and perfumed powder;
fresh, fine under-linen next her glowing skin; shining and refreshed,
in a gown of chiffon and satin; eating her first mouthful of Yoshido's
ambrosial soup.

"Why, I'm so sorry," she was saying. "I went out for a walk, and then
went further than I meant to. I've been over on the left bank part of
the time, in Notre Dame and the Pantheon. And then when I started to
come home it took longer than I thought. It's so apt to, you know."

"Why in the world, my dear, did you _walk_ home?" cried Aunt Victoria,
still brooding over her in pitying sympathy.

"I'd--I'd lost my purse. I didn't have any money."

"But you don't pay for a cab till you come to the end of your journey!
You could have stepped into a taxi and borrowed the money of the
concierge here."

Sylvia was immensely disconcerted by her rustic naivete in not
thinking of this obvious device. "Oh, of course! How could I have been
so--but I was tired when I came to start home--I was very tired--too
tired to think clearly!"

This brought them all back to the recollection of what had set her off
on her walk. There was for a time rather a strained silence; but they
were all very hungry--dinner was two hours late--and the discussion
of Yoshido's roast duckling was anything but favorable for the
consideration of painful topics. They had champagne to celebrate her
safe escape from the adventure. To the sensation of pe