ght air could hardly be regarded as a potent factor in
restoring Penfield's recollections, for they walked some distance and he
had succeeded in offering no answer to Hayden's question; and although he
strove lightly to discuss the various topics which arose between them, he
was manifestly so perturbed and dismayed that Hayden felt his contempt
mitigated by a faint touch of pity.

Finally, when about to cross from one side of the street to the other,
they paused to give an oncoming motor the right of way. As it went flying
past them, a woman leaned forward and bowed and smiled. It was the lady
of the butterflies, and in the white light of the electric lamp Hayden
saw seated beside her the same gray, elderly, unobtrusive man with whom
she had entered the Gildersleeve.

"By George! Marcia Oldham!" cried Penfield.

Marcia Oldham! What a coincidence! What luck! Hayden exulted. So Kitty's
Fairy princess and his fairy princess were identical. It was surely one
of the most incredible and delightful of happenings. Now Kitty Hampton
should have an opportunity to prove that cousinly affection of which she
was always assuring him.

"You know her, of course?" asked Penfield.

"I have recently met her," replied Hayden briefly.

"Queer thing about that family," meditated Penfield.

"Queer? How? What do you mean?" exclaimed Hayden involuntarily, although
he bitterly reproached himself a moment later, for having, as he
expressed it, so far forgotten himself as to ask any questions of
Penfield.

Penfield chuckled, an arid, biting chuckle it was, too. His face
brightened up, his crestfallen manner merged happily into jauntiness, his
self-respect was restored. He was again the authoritative gossip.

"You know, of course, of old Oldham. One of the millionaires of the last
decade. Well, with changing times, changing methods of finance, he lost
his grip, and about five years ago he died, heavily involved, leaving a
widow and one young daughter, Marcia. Mrs. Oldham had been a Southern
woman of the old regime, and was a pretty, absolutely helpless creature,
and Marcia was still at school.

"Of course it raised a storm of talk. They had been used to every luxury,
all the ease of wealth; they relied on the machinery, you know, to look
after them, and it never entered into their heads that the wheels could
stop. When they did stop, as you can imagine, every one was discussing
the poor Oldhams. There was the greatest raising of hands an