" argued Sammy, smilingly.

"Why can't it?"

"Why, because no one with a name like van Soop to begin with would name
a little darling baby PIET," submitted Sammy.

"Oh, come," said Mr. van Soop. "Your own name, now! Sammy, as Mary
always calls you--that's nothing to boast of, you know, and I'll bet
you were a very darling little baby yourself!"

Sammy laughed joyously, and a dozen fellow guests glanced
sympathetically in the direction of the fresh, childish sound.

"Well, if that's really your name, of course you can't help it," she
conceded, adding, with the naivete that Mr. van Soop already found
delightful: "Wouldn't the COMBINATION be awful, though! Sammy van Soop!"

"If you'll consider it, I'll endeavor to make it the only sorrow you
have to endure," said Mr. van Soop; and the ensuing laughter brought
them the attention of the whole table.

"No danger!" said Sammy, gayly. "I'm going home in December, you know,
to be married!"

Every one heard it. Mary winced. Mrs. Bond flushed. Tom said a word
that gave his pretty partner a right to an explanation. But Sammy was
apparently cheerful.

Only apparently, however. For that night, when she found herself in her
luxurious room again, she took Anthony's picture from the bureau and
studied it gravely under the lights.

"I said that right out," she said aloud, "and I'll KEEP ON saying it.
Then, when the time comes to go, I simply CAN'T back out!"

She put the picture back, and sat down at her dressing-table and stared
at her own reflection. Her hair was filleted with silver and tiny
roses; her gown was of exquisite transparent embroidery, and more tiny
roses rumpled the deep lace collar. But even less familiar than this
finery were the cheeks that blazed with so many remembered compliments,
the scarlet lips that had learned to smile so readily, the eyes
brilliant with new dreams.

"I feel as if sorrow--SORROW," said little Sammy, shivering, "were just
about two feet behind me, and as if--if it ever catches up--I'll be the
most unhappy girl in the world!"

And she gave herself a little shake and put a firm little finger-tip on
Gabrielle's bell.

"Sammy," said Mr. van Soop, one dull gray afternoon some weeks later,
"I've brought you out for a special purpose to-day."

"Tea?" said Sammy, contentedly.

"Tea, gluttonous one," he admitted, turning his big car into the park.
"But, seriously, I want to ask you about your going away."

"I don't know that there's