you shall talk business with him as much as you like, and he won't make
you feel that he's laughing at you, as that Mr.--, what's his name,
does."

"Good for you, Allen!" the girl cried, really pleased by the clumsily
expressed compliment.

"So all is settled now except the pater, and I'm almost launched on my
career," Allen replied. "Now suppose we take up your case. What have you
been doing all these years?"

"Well," said Alice, smiling, "the history of my life is yet to be
written, but the main facts up to the present are that I have safely
passed through school and most of my other childhood diseases; that I
had my coming-out ball in New York last winter; that I am happy,
and--most important of all--that I have Eleanor."

She took Mrs. Gorham's hand affectionately in hers as she spoke, and
Allen needed nothing more to demonstrate the strength of the bond which
existed between the two. It was not the affection between mother and
daughters, or between sisters, or friends, but rather the best of all
three merged and purified by the yearning each had felt for that which
now each had found.

The conversation during the ride back to the hotel was in lighter vein,
in which Allen showed greater proficiency. Alice's interest in him was
mingled with a disappointment that the years had not made him older and
less irresponsible. She felt herself distinctly his senior, yet she also
felt a confidence in his unexpressed ability. To Mrs. Gorham the
passages-at-arms between the two children, as she would have called