ly a few girl friends, and even
these no doubt were beginning to think her uppish.

She did not take off her hat and coat. She wandered through the empty
rooms, undecided. If she went to a movie the rooms would be just as
lonely when she returned. Companionship. The urge of it was so strong
that there was a temptation to call up someone, even someone she had
rebuffed. She was in the mood to confess everything and to make an
honest attempt to start all over again--to accept friendship and let
pride go hang. Impulsively she started for the telephone, when the
doorbell rang.

Immediately the sense of loneliness fell away. Another chapter in
the great game of hide and seek that had kept her from brooding until
to-night? The doorbell carried a new message these days. Nine o'clock.
Who could be calling at that hour? She had forgotten to advise Cutty
of the fact that someone had gone through the apartment. She could not
positively assert the fact. Those articles in her bureau she herself
might have disturbed. She might have taken a handkerchief in a hurry,
hunted for something under the lingerie impatiently. Still she could
not rid herself of the feeling that alien hands had been rifling her
belongings. Not Bernini, decidedly.

Remembering Cutty's advice about opening the door with her foot against
it, she peered out. No emissary of Bolshevisim here. A weary little
messenger boy with a long box in his arms called her name.

"Miz Conover?"

"Yes."

The boy thrust the box into her hands and clumped to the stairhead.
Kitty slammed the door and ran into the living room, tearing open the
box as she ran. Roses from Cutty; she knew it. The old darling! Just
when she was on the verge of breaking down and crying! She let the
box fall to the floor and cuddled the flowers to her heart, her eyes
filling. Cutty.

One of those ideas which sometime or another spring into the minds
of all pretty women who are poor sprang into hers--an idea such as an
honest woman might muse over, only to reject. Sinister and cynical.
Kitty was at this moment in rather a desperate frame of mind. Those two
inherent characteristics, which she had fought valiantly--love of good
times and of pretty clothes--made ingress easy for this sinister and
cynical idea. Having gained a foothold it pressed forward boldly. Cutty,
who had everything--strength, comeliness, wisdom, and money. To live
among all those beautiful things, never to be lonely again, to be wait