As I went up-stairs to take off my wraps I smiled at Kitty's
instructions. In her room she hastily kissed me.

"Do hurry and come down. I'm so afraid he'll come before the others,
and I might have to talk to him. Literary people are the limit, and
this one, they say, is the worst kind. Billy refuses to leave his room
until you go down; says he'd rather be sent to jail than left alone
with him ten minutes. He met him at the club."

Holding me off, she surveyed me critically. "You look very well.
That's a good-looking dress. It suits you. I believe you wear pearls
and these untrimmed things just to bring out your hair and eyes.
Nobody but you could do it."

Stopping her short, quick sentences, she leaned forward. "There he is,
coming up the steps with Mr. Alexander. Come on; they're inside. We
can go down now. By the way"--she pinned the orchids at her waist
with unnecessary attention--"Selwyn got back yesterday. He will be
here to-night. Dick Moran is sick, and Selwyn is taking his place. At
first he declined to come. For weeks he's been going nowhere, but he
finally promised. Are you ready?"

Without looking around she went out of the room, and without answering
her I followed. I was conscious chiefly of a desire to get away, to do
anything but meet Selwyn where each would have to play a part; but as I
entered Kitty's drawing-room and later met her guests I crowded back
all else but what was due her, spoke in turn to each, and then to
Selwyn, as if between us there was no terrifying, unbridged gulf.

Kitty's dinners are perfect. I am ever amazed at the care and