that burst from Anne's lips. "I beg your
pardon. I just happened to think of something." She turned away to say
good-bye to the last of her remaining visitors,--two middle-aged ladies who
had not made her acquaintance until after her marriage to Templeton Thorpe
and therefore were not by way of knowing Mrs. Wintermill without the aid
of opera-glasses. "Do come and see me again."

"Who are they?" demanded Mrs. Wintermill before the servant had time to
close the door behind the departing ones. She did not go to the trouble of
speaking in an undertone.

"Old friends of Mr. Thorpe's," said Anne. "Washington Square people. More
tea, Ludwig. How well you are looking, Mrs. Wintermill. So good of you to
come."

"We wanted to be among the first--if not the very first--to welcome you
home, Jane. Percy said to me this morning before he left for the office:
'Mother, you must run in and see Jane Tresslyn to-day.' Ahem! Dear me, I
seem to have got into the habit of dropping things every time I move.
Thanks, dear. Ahem! As I was saying, I said to Percy this morning: 'I must
run in and see Jane Tresslyn to-day.' And Percy said that he would meet me
here and go on to the--Do you remember the Fenns? The Rumsey Fenns?"

"Oh, yes. I've been away only a year, you know, Mrs. Wintermill."

"It seems ages. Well, the Fenns are having something or other for a French
woman,--or a man, I'm not quite sure,--who is trying to introduce a new
tuberculosis serum over here. I shouldn't be the least bit surprised to
see it publicly injected into Mr. Fenn, who, I am told, has everything his
wife wants him to have. My daughter was saying only a day or two ago that
Rumsey Fenn,--we don't know them very well, of course,--naturally, we
wouldn't, you know--er--what was I saying? Ah, yes; Percy declared that the
city would be something like itself once more, now that you've come home,
Jennie. I beg your pardon;--which is it that you prefer? I've quite
forgotten. Jennie or Jane?"

"It doesn't in the least matter, Mrs. Wintermill," said Anne amiably.
"There isn't much choice."

"How is your mother?"

"Quite well, thank you. And how is Mr. Wintermill?"

"As I was saying, Mrs. Fenn dances beautifully. Percy,--he's really quite
silly about dancing,--Percy says she's the best he knows. I do not pretend
to dance all of the new ones myself, but--Did you inquire about Mr.
Wintermill? He's doing it, too, as they say in the song. By the way, I
should have asked