was talking like her father as the sleek geldings ambled in
review before them. She played for very high stakes, and fortune favored
her. The fever of the game flamed in her cheeks and eyes, and it got
into her blood and into her brain like an intoxicant. People turned
their heads to look at her, and more than one lent an attentive car to
her utterances, hoping thereby to secure the elusive but ever-desired
"tip." Arobin caught the contagion of excitement which drew him to
Edna like a magnet. Mrs. Highcamp remained, as usual, unmoved, with her
indifferent stare and uplifted eyebrows.

Edna stayed and dined with Mrs. Highcamp upon being urged to do so.
Arobin also remained and sent away his drag.

The dinner was quiet and uninteresting, save for the cheerful efforts
of Arobin to enliven things. Mrs. Highcamp deplored the absence of her
daughter from the races, and tried to convey to her what she had missed
by going to the "Dante reading" instead of joining them. The girl held
a geranium leaf up to her nose and said nothing, but looked knowing and
noncommittal. Mr. Highcamp was a plain, bald-headed man, who only
talked under compulsion. He was unresponsive. Mrs. Highcamp was full of
delicate courtesy and consideration toward her husband. She addressed
most of her conversation to him at table. They sat in the library after
dinner and read the evening papers together under the droplight; while
the younger people went into the drawing-room near by and talked. Miss
Highcamp played some selections from Grieg upon the piano. She seemed to
have apprehended all of the composer's coldness and none of his poetry.
While Edna listened she could not help wondering if she had lost her
taste for music.

When the time came for her to go home, Mr. Highcamp grunted a lame offer
to escort her, looking down at his slippered feet with tactless concern.
It was Arobin who took her home. The car ride was long, and it was late
when they reached Esplanade Street. Arobin asked permission to enter for
a second to light his cigarette--his match safe was empty. He filled his
match safe, but did not light his cigarette until he left her, after she
had expressed her willingness to go to the races with him again.

Edna was neither tired nor sleepy. She was hungry again, for the
Highcamp dinner, though of excellent quality, had lacked abundance. She
rummaged in the larder and brought forth a slice of Gruyere and some
crackers. She opened a bottle of be