street-suit. Phil looked down at her approvingly as they stepped out
into the wintry air together.

The great show windows were ablaze with lights by this time, and the
rush of the crowds almost took her off her feet. Phil at her elbow
piloted her along to a corner where they were to take a car.

"I'm glad that I happened along to take you under my wing," he said.
"You ought not to be out alone on the streets at night."

"It isn't six o'clock yet," she answered. "And this is the first time
that I had no escort arranged for. Mrs. Boyd always comes with me. She's
little and meek, but her white hair counts for a lot. She would have
gone to the station with me, but she and Lucy are dining out. We girls
will be all alone to-night. I wish they were not expecting you out at
Eugenia's to dinner. I'd take you back with me. I have prepared quite a
company spread, things that you especially like."

"There's a telephone out to the place," he suggested. "I could easily
let them know if I missed my train, and I could easily miss it--if my
invitation were pressing enough."

"Then _do_ miss it," she insisted, smiling up at him so cordially that
he laughed and said in a complacent tone, "We'll consider it done. I'll
telephone Eugenia from the station, that I'll not be out till morning.
Really," he added a moment later, "it will be more like a sure-enough
home-coming to come back to you and that little chatterbox of a Mary
than to go out to my brother's. Eugenia is a dear, but I've never known
her except as a bride or a dignified young matron, so of course we have
no youthful experiences in common to hark back to together. That is the