d Van Bibber, holding up one hand and clasping
the dog under his other arm.

Miss Arnett flew at the collie and embraced it, wet as it was, and
ruined her gown, and all the men glanced instinctively at the clock
and said:

"You've won, Van."

"But you must be frozen to death," said Miss Arnett, looking up at him
with gratitude in her eyes.

"Yes, yes," said Van Bibber, beginning to shiver. "I've had a terrible
long walk, and I had to carry him all the way. If you'll excuse me,
I'll go change my things."

He reappeared again in a suspiciously short time for one who had to
change outright, and the men admired his endurance and paid up the
bet.

"Where did you find him, Van?" one of them asked.

"Oh, yes," they all chorused. "Where was he?"

"That," said Mr. Van Bibber, "is a thing known to only two beings,
Duncan and myself. Duncan can't tell, and I won't. If I did, you'd say
I was trying to make myself out clever, and I never boast about the
things I do."

ELEANORE CUYLER

Miss Eleanore Cuyler had dined alone with her mother that night, and
she was now sitting in the drawing-room, near the open fire, with her
gloves and fan on the divan beside her, for she was going out later to
a dance.

She was reading a somewhat weighty German review, and the contrast
which the smartness of her gown presented to the seriousness of her
occupation made her smile slightly as she paused for a moment to cut
the leaves.

And when the bell sounded in the hall she put the book away from her
altogether, and wondered who it might be.

It might be young Wainwright, with the proof-sheets of the new story
he had promised to let her see, or flowers for the dance from
Bruce-Brice, of the English Legation at Washington, who for the time
being was practising diplomatic moves in New York, or some of her
working-girls with a new perplexity for her to unravel, or only one of
the men from the stable to tell her how her hunter was getting on
after his fall. It might be any of these and more. The possibilities
were diverse and all of interest, and she acknowledged this to
herself, with a little sigh of content that it was so. For she found
her pleasure in doing many things, and in the fact that there were so
many. She rejoiced daily that she was free, and her own mistress in
everything; free to do these many things denied to other young women,
and that she had the health and position and cleverness to carry them
on and through to