h, she understands! She knows you didn't come to see her, and,
besides, she's gone up-stairs to write to her mother. If King George
had been here she'd have gone. You know, I really dreaded her
coming, but I needn't. She has been to a good many places--was
abroad for a year with one of her sisters whose husband was secretary
or something to one of our ministers or somebody--but she doesn't
know New York at all. She's met a number of her friend's friends
already, and I won't have to scoop up men for her. Last night at the
Van Doren's she had more around her than she could talk to. Always
has had, Channing says. She'll be no bother; and don't stay away
because she's here. Tell me"--she put her hand on his knee--"is it
true you are going to Panama next month? Robin French told me she
heard you would leave on the twelfth."

"If Miss French could sell fairy tales as rapidly as she can repeat
them she'd make a fortune. I have no idea what I am going to do next
month."

"I wish I didn't know I was going to Savannah for Christmas. It's
Channing's year, and of course we ought to go to his mother, as she
is too old to come to us, but there's so much going on, and then
you'll be alone."

"Oh, I'll manage all right. The one good thing about Christmas is it
doesn't last long." He leaned forward and with the tongs turned a
smoldering log. "But it's incomprehensible how a woman with a home
can keep up this everlasting going to other people's houses.
To-morrow night you go--"

"To the Taillors. Mrs. Taillor's debutante daughter makes her first
bow to--"

"Capitalized society, does she? Poor child! The pains of pleasure
are many."

"They surely are! She looks like a scared rabbit, and I heard her
say only a week ago she'd rather die than be a debutante. But she'll
get on. Her mother will corral the men and compel them to come in
and pay her attention. Are you going?"

"Hardly." Laine looked at his watch. "What time do you have dinner?"

"Seven. It's time for me to dress." Mrs. Warrick got up. "Do pray
be decent and go to-morrow night, Winthrop. Mr. Taillor has been
such a good friend, and Mrs. Taillor will be so pleased. Don't
forget to send the child flowers. I wonder if Claudia is ready.
Dorothea grabs her every chance she gets, and I don't doubt she's
with the children this minute. She'll stay until dinner is served,
so don't worry; and for goodness' sake don't let her being here keep
you awa