h a look of astonishment and a "Thank
ye, lady!" and instantly buried a very grimy face in the bunch of
perfume. The girl stepped into the carriage, the door shut with the
incisive bang peculiar to well-made carriages of this sort, and in a
few moments the coachman was speeding the horses rapidly up one of
the boulevards.

"You are always doing some queer thing or other, Felicia," said the
older girl as the carriage whirled on past the great residences
already brilliantly lighted.

"Am I? What have I done that is queer now, Rose?" asked the other,
looking up suddenly and turning her head towards her sister.

"Oh, giving those violets to that boy! He looked as if he needed a
good hot supper more than a bunch of violets. It's a wonder you
didn't invite him home with us. I shouldn't have been surprised if
you had. You are always doing such queer things."

"Would it be queer to invite a boy like that to come to the house
and get a hot supper?" Felicia asked the question softly and almost
as if she were alone.

"'Queer' isn't just the word, of course," replied Rose
indifferently. "It would be what Madam Blanc calls 'outre.'
Decidedly. Therefore you will please not invite him or others like
him to hot suppers because I suggested it. Oh, dear! I'm awfully
tired."

She yawned, and Felicia silently looked out of the window in the
door.

"The concert was stupid and the violinist was simply a bore. I don't
see how you could sit so still through it all," Rose exclaimed a
little impatiently.

"I liked the music," answered Felicia quietly.

"You like anything. I never saw a girl with so little critical
taste."

Felicia colored slightly, but would not answer. Rose yawned again,
and then hummed a fragment of a popular song. Then she exclaimed
abruptly: "I'm sick of 'most everything. I hope the 'Shadows of
London' will be exciting tonight."

"The 'Shadows of Chicago,'" murmured Felicia. "The 'Shadows of
Chicago!' The 'Shadows of London,' the play, the great drama with
its wonderful scenery, the sensation of New York for two months. You
know we have a box with the Delanos tonight."

Felicia turned her face towards her sister. Her great brown eyes
were very expressive and not altogether free from a sparkle of
luminous heat.

"And yet we never weep over the real thing on the actual stage of
life. What are the 'Shadows of London' on the stage to the shadows
of London or Chicago as they really exist? Why don't we get exci