imately to restore a seemly order from the
chaos, he was sure that Kitty and her decorators would create. On the
whole, he succeeded in putting in about as stupid and empty a day as he
had expected, perhaps because he had expected it, but late in the
afternoon, as he was strolling up the Avenue in the direction of home, he
espied, with a feeling of genuine pleasure, the figure of Mrs. Habersham
a few paces ahead of him. The prospect of her society, if only for a
block or so, was a welcome relief to him. He felt rather aggrievedly that
he had been the prey of bores during the entire day, skilfully escaping
one, only to be firmly button-holed by another. Therefore he quickened
his steps to overtake Mrs. Habersham, whom he had always found especially
sympathetic and sincere.

She, on her part, seemed delighted to see him. "I am just on my way home
to dress for your dinner," she said, "and I wanted a bit of a walk first.
Don't you feel the spring in the air?"

"Winter contradicts your statement," laughed Hayden, as a cutting wind
caused her to shiver and draw her furs more closely about her throat.

"He can't deny those harbingers of spring anyway, no matter how hard he
tries," she waved her hand toward a florist's window full of jonquils,
daffodils, lilacs, and lilies-of-the-valley. "Oh," with a change of
subjects. "I have been hearing on every side of Mrs. Ames' luncheon
yesterday. It has assumed such importance as a topic of conversation,
that it is now spoken of as 'the luncheon.' There is fame for you! Why
truly," laughing softly, "my curiosity was aroused to such an extent that
I have just been up to see Marcia and get all the details."

"Then you have seen Miss Oldham to-day?" Hayden attempted to infuse into
his tones, merely polite, superficial interest; what he really put into
them was an eager longing to hear of his butterfly lady.

"I have just come from her," said Bea Habersham, "I do hope she will be
more like herself this evening!"

"Like herself!" Hayden wheeled sharply. "Why, what do you mean? Is she
not well? Is she ill?" He could not conceal his anxiety.

"Oh, dear me, no." Mrs. Habersham reassured him with a smile. "Not ill at
all, not in the least. It was only--"

"Only what?" insisted Hayden.

"Only that she seemed a bit--well, overwrought, not quite like herself."

"How overwrought? Do tell me just how she appeared to you. I feel as if
you were keeping something back," urged Robert.

"Nonse