"Sit down, Lil. Hello, Harry."

Dicky was on his feet in an instant and Lillian Gale was seated next
to me with Dicky and her husband leaning over us before I had fully
realized that the woman, the thought of whom had so disturbed my
evening, was so close to me.

"I want you to know Mrs. Graham, Harry," Dicky said.

I glowed inwardly at the note of pride in his voice and looked up to
meet a pair of brilliant black eyes looking at me with an appraising
approval that grated. He was a tall, good looking chap, with an air of
ennui that sat oddly on his powerful frame. I felt sure that I would
like Lillian Gale's husband as little as I did the woman herself.

I was glad when the lights dimmed slowly, that the second act
was about to begin. Mrs. Underwood rose with a noisy rustling of
draperies. She evidently was one of those women who can do nothing
quietly, and turning to me said, cordially:

"Be sure to wait for us in the lobby when this is over. We have a
plan," and before I had time to reply she had rustled away to her own
seat, her tall husband following at some little distance behind her,
but apparently oblivious of her presence as if she were a stranger.

I didn't much enjoy the second act, even though I realized that it was
one of the best comedy scenes I had ever seen, both in its lines and
its acting; but I had a problem to settle, and I longed for the quiet
hour in my own room which my mother had trained me to take every day
since childhood.