morning."

Nick was kindly confusing and shaming Miss Ingate with a short history and
catechism of modern art, including such names as Vuillard, Bonnard,
Picasso, Signac, and Matisse--all very eagerly poured out and all very
unnerving for Miss Ingate, whose directory of painting was practically
limited to the names of Raphael, Sir Joshua, Rembrandt, Rubens,
Gainsborough, Turner, Leighton, Millais, Gustave Doré and Frank Dicksee.
When, however, Nick referred to Monsieur Dauphin, Miss Ingate was as it
were washed safely ashore and said with assurance: "Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh
yes!"

Tommy listened for a few moments, and then, leaning across the table and
lighting a cigarette, she said in an intimate undertone to Audrey: "I hope
you don't _mind_ coming to the ball to-night. We really didn't know------"
She stopped. Her eyes, ferreting in Audrey's black, completed the
communication.

Unnerved for the tenth of a second, Audrey recovered and answered:

"Oh, no! I shall like it very much."

"You've been up against life!" murmured Tommy in a melting voice, gazing at
her. "But how wonderful all experience is, isn't it. I once had a husband.
We separated--at least, he separated. But I know the feel of being a wife."

Audrey blushed deeply. She wanted to push away all that sympathy, and she
was exceedingly alarmed by the revelation that Tommy was an initiate. The
widow was the merest schoolgirl once more. But her blush had saved her from
a chat in which she could not conceivably have held her own.