ow.

"Who--who is it?" faltered the latter. "Maybe it's one of those
horrid collectors," she went on, in her sister's ear. "I wish I'd
kept quiet."

But the voice that answered reassured them.

"Are you there, Miss DeVere? This is Russ Dalwood. I want to
apologize for that row outside your door a few minutes ago. It was an
accident. I'm sorry. May I come in?"

CHAPTER III

THE OLD TROUBLE

For a moment the girls faced each other with wide-opened eyes, the
brown ones of Alice gazing into the deep blue ones of Ruth. Ruth's
eyes were not the ordinary blue--like those of a china doll. They
were more like wood-violets, and in their depths could be read a
liking for the unusual and romantic that was, in a measure, the key
to her character. Not for nothing had Alice laughed at her sister's
longing for a prince, on a milk-white steed, to come riding by. Ruth
was tall, and of that desirable willowy type, so much in demand of
late.

Alice was just saved from being a "bread-and-butter" girl. That is,
she had wholesomeness, with a round face, and ruddy cheeks--more
damask than red in color--but she also had a rollicking, good-natured
disposition, without being in the least bit tomboyish. She reminded
one of a girl just out of school, eager for a game of tennis or golf.

"Are you busy?" asked the voice on the other side of the door. "I can
call again!"

"No, wait--Russ!" replied Ruth, with an obvious effort. "We had the
chain on. We'll let you in!"

The DeVeres had only known their neighbors across the hall since
coming to the Fenmore Apartment. Yet one could not live near motherly
Mrs. Sarah Dalwood and not get to know her rather intimately, in a
comparatively short time. She was what would have been called, in the
country, "a good neighbor." In New York, with its hurry and scurry,
where people live for years in adjoining rooms and never speak, she
was an unusual type. She knew nearly every one in the big
apartment--which was almost more than the janitor and his wife could
boast.

A widow with two sons, Mrs. Dalwood was in fairly good
circumstances--compared with her neighbors. Her husband had left her
a little sum in life insurance that was well invested, and Russ held
a place as moving picture machine operator in one of the largest of
those theaters. He earned a good salary which made it unnecessary for
his mother to go out to work, or to take any in, and his brother
Billy was kept at school. Billy was tw