appen to know that the engagement is not definitely
announced." Hayden drew a long breath. It was as if some weight had been
lifted from him. "Marcia is odd, you know, awfully odd; but just the
same, in that slow, unyielding way of his, Wilfred is determined to marry
her, and"--she lifted her eyes--"his mother is crazy, simply crazy about
it. For a while she contented herself with merely clawing the air
whenever Marcia's name was mentioned; but after her nice, quiet, stupid
worm of a Wilfred turned and definitely announced to her his intentions,
she hustled herself into her black bombazine and has literally made a
house-to-house canvas, telling everywhere her tale of woe. Poor old dame,
it is rather hard on her!"

"Why?" asked Hayden, ice in his voice. "I should think that she would
consider her son an especially fortunate man."

His companion gave a short laugh of irrepressible amusement. "I wish she
could hear you say that, and might I be there to see the fun, from a safe
corner, mind you! 'The shouting and the tumult' would be worth while, I
can assure you. Oh-h," with one of her affected little shivers, "I wish
you could hear some of the things she says about Marcia! Of course, one
can not exactly blame the poor old soul, for to say the least, Marcia,
dear as she is, certainly lays herself open to conjecture."

Hayden did not reply. He was rudely and unmistakably giving the
impression of not having heard a word she said; but this attempt on his
part, instead of offending his thin and voluble companion, only seemed to
amuse her inordinately.

"Do you know, Kitty," announced the plaintive-voiced lady across the
table, "that your butterflies are really the prettiest ones I've seen,
prettier than Mrs. ----," mentioning the English actress, "for I got a
good look at them at a reception the other day, and yours are quite as
lovely as Bea's. Dear me!" in almost weeping envy. "I wish I could afford
a chain of them."

Edith Symmes had a positive explosion of her noiseless, faintly malicious
laughter. "Did you hear that?" she whispered to Hayden. "Whine-y Minnie
over there is as rich as cream; and yet, she can't afford those dreamy
butterflies, while Marcia Oldham, who hasn't a cent in the whole world,
wears a set which, as usual, surpasses every other woman's. It is a most
amazing and amusing social riddle. Even you, who are evidently one of her
admirers, must admit that."

"I can't really afford anything worth while t