w to begin. Jinnie looked so very lovely, so
confiding, so infinitely sweet. Molly leaned over and said:

"Wasn't it queer how suddenly I remembered who you were? That night at
the party your name refused to come to my mind. I've wanted to tell
you several times how sorry I was about your accident!"

"I recognized you the minute I saw you," said Jinnie, smiling,
relieved a little by Molly's apology.

"You've a good memory," answered Molly. "Now I want to tell you
something, and I hope you'll be guided by my judgment."

Jinnie looked straight at her without a sign of acquiescence.

"What is it?" she asked presently.

"You must leave Grandoken's!"

Jinnie started to speak, but Molly's next words closed her lips.

"Please don't get nervous! Listen to me! You're a very young and very
pretty girl and there--there is some one interested in you."

Jinnie pricked up her ears. Some one interested in her! Of course she
knew who it was. Theodore! But she wouldn't leave Peggy even for him,
and the thought that he would not ask this of her brought her
exquisite joy.

"Is it Mr. King who's interested in me?" she asked, timidly.

Molly's eyes narrowed into small slits.

"No, it isn't Mr. King who's interested in you!" she replied a trifle
mockingly. "Mr. King's too sick to be interested in anybody."

Jinnie couldn't refrain from saying, "He looked awful ill when I saw
him at the hospital."

Molly stared at her blankly. She grew dizzy and very angry. This girl
always made her rage within herself.

"You've seen him since--since----"

A maddened expression leapt into Molly's eyes.

"I drive there every day, but they won't let _me_ see him," she said,
reddening.

"Mr. King sent for me," Jinnie replied, resolutely.

And as the girl admitted this, with deepening flushes, Molly looked
away. When she had first spoken of Jinnie's future to Jordan Morse,
she had pleaded with him to be kind to her, but now she could surround
that white throat and strangle the breath from it without
compunction.

"Will you tell me what he said to you?" she queried, trying to hide
her anger.

Jinnie looked down, and locked her fingers together.

"I can't tell," she said at length, moving in discomfort.

She wanted to go--to get away from the woman who looked at her so
analytically, so resentfully. She got up nervously and picked up her
fiddle.

"Don't go," urged Molly, starting forward.

Then she laughed a little and went on, "I su