firelight; and the flat was so high up in the block that the street
noises scarcely ascended to it. The girls sat down on the hearthrug,
and Mrs. Amber seated herself before her tea tray and flicked away a
tear.

"A week to-day," she said, "I shall be the loneliest old thing in
London. I shall be all by myself in this flat when Marie's gone."

There were five cups and saucers on the tray, and in a moment the
door-bell rang, and Marie sprang up to answer it. "That's Osborn!" she
cried in a flutter.

She returned demurely between two young men, one of them holding her
hand captive.

Osborn had brought his friend Desmond Rokeby to talk over details of
the great event next week. He kissed Mrs. Amber on the cheek, and
turned to Julia with a certain diffidence. "Miss Winter," he said, with
a nervous laugh, "I've brought Rokeby. You've met him? Rokeby, Miss
Winter's going to be Marie's bridesmaid, you know, and you're going to
be mine, so...."

The little joke was received with laughter by Mrs. Amber, Marie and
Desmond; Julia only smiled and Rokeby thought, "What a dour young
female! What a cold douche! What a perishing mistake!"

He sat down beside her on the chesterfield; the couch was small and
Julia, close beside him, cold and hard as a rock. He turned from a
glance at her profile to contemplate the bride-elect, and saw in her
all that the modern young man wishes to find in a girl, the sparkle of