tions, and his mortification
over Harrie's behavior since the latter's return from El Paso has
kept him away even from me. Madeleine Swink I have seen several
times, also Tom Cressy, but Mrs. Swink I have been spared, owing to
absence from home when she returned my call.

I have told Madeleine that she must not meet Tom here again until she
breaks her engagement with Harrie and tells her mother she will not
marry him. I cannot help her marry Tom unless she is open and square
with her mother. She thinks I am hard, but I will agree to nothing
else.

It isn't easy to be patient with halting, hesitating, helpless
people, and Madeleine, having long been dominated, is a rather
spiritless person. Still, she is the sort one always feels sorry
for. I wish I wasn't mixed up in her affairs, however. They aren't
my business and fingers put in other people's pies are likely to get
pinched. Then, too, my fingers have many other things to do.

Last night's party was a great success. During most of the day I was
telephoning messages, sending notes of invitations, and helping Mrs.
Mundy with the preparation of certain substantial refreshments which
must be abundant; and when at last I stood ready to receive my guests
a thrill I had long thought dead became alive again. At other
parties I knew what to expect. At this one I didn't.

Lucy Hobbs, resplendent in a green silk, lace-trimmed dress, was
dashingly handsome with her carefully curled hair and naturally
colored cheeks; and her big, black eyes missed no detail of my
holly-bedecked and brightly lighted rooms. It was difficult to
associate her with the girl in shabby clothes who hurried through the
streets in the dark of early mornings, and whose days were spent in a
factory, year in and year out; and yet the factory had left its
imprint in a shyness that was new to one whose usual role was that of
boss, and at first she was ill at ease.

"You must help me, Lucy." I spoke hurriedly and in an undertone.
"Some of these people think they're at a funeral. Mix them up and
introduce them again if they don't talk to each other. Take Mr.
Banister over to Gracie Hurd. He's afraid to cross the room to get
to her and she hasn't budged since she came in. And get Mr.
Schrioski from Mrs. Gibbons. She's telling him about the baby's
whooping-cough and enjoying the telling; but he isn't. Go to him
first."

As I spoke to Lucy, David Guard came in the room. He wore his usual
c