sallies, no smile came to him, and he bid feeling that he was likely to
obtain a white elephant.

That night, in the solitude of his room, he came near writing a farewell
letter to Mona and enclosing this deed as a keepsake. Only pride
restrained him.

CHAPTER XXXVII

A SOCIAL CYNIC

One evening, a few weeks after the auction, Winn, in his new occupation,
was detailed to report one of those affairs in high life where wealth
gathered to display its gowns, and fops, in evening dress, uttered
flattering nothings to beauty in undress. A crush of fashionable people
who ate, drank, danced, simpered, and smirked until the wee small hours
and then went home to curry one another's reputation and conduct.

Winn, not in the swim, was made duly welcome by virtue of his errand
there, and, furnished with a list of the ladies' names and costumes by
the hostess (not forgetting her own), was about to depart when he was
accosted by Ethel Sherman.

He had noticed her first, surrounded by gentlemen, and feeling he might
be one too many, kept away.

"Why, Winn," she said, coming to his side and smiling graciously as she
extended her hand, "I am glad to see you. How do you happen to be
here?"

"Business," he answered laconically; "I am a reporter now."

"Yes, I heard so from your aunt. You have not favored me with a call now
for weeks," she said, "and you are a naughty boy to neglect me."

"You are looking charming, as usual," he answered, glancing at her
exquisite costume, very decollete, and feeling that it was what he must
say.

"Of course," she replied, "every man feels that he must say that, but
you needn't. Compliments are like perfume, to be inhaled, not swallowed;
so let the rest utter them, and you can spare me. I'd rather know how
you are getting on."

"Fairly well," he answered coolly, for he had really kept away from her
for weeks from a lurking sense of danger to his own feelings. "It is an
occupation that keeps me busy and makes a living, that is all. It may
lead to something better."

"I read your splendid _expose_ of Weston & Hill," she continued, still
smiling admiration, "and it did my heart good. I wish Weston could see
it. And that poor widow whose plight you described--it was pitiful."

"Only a sample case of the evil wrought by such as Weston," Winn
answered modestly. "I wish I knew where he is; I'd mail him a marked
copy of the paper."

Then, as some one came up to claim her for a dance, she