had been an unobserved witness of the scene with Barbara, having
entered the library in time to hear the girl's last remarks. It was
not the first inkling that she had had of their disapproval of
Colonel McIntyre's attentions to her, but it had hurt.

The widow had become acquainted with the twins when, traveling in
Europe just before the outbreak of the World War, and had made the
hasty trip back to this country in their company. Colonel McIntyre
had planned to bring the twins, then at school in Paris, home
himself, but business had kept him in the West and he had cabled
to a spinster cousin to chaperon them on the trip across the
Atlantic Ocean. Nor had he reached New York in time to see them
disembark, and thus had missed meeting Mrs. Brewster, then in
her first year of widowhood.

The friendship between the twins and Mrs. Brewster had been kept
up through much correspondence, and the widow had finally promised,
to come to Washington for their debut, visiting her cousins, Dr.
and Mrs. Stone. The meeting had but cemented the friendship between
them, and at the twins' urgent request, seconded with warmth by
Colonel McIntyre, she had promised to spend the month of April at
the McIntyre home.

The visit was nearly over. Mrs. Brewster sighed faintly. There
were two courses open to her, immediate departure, or to continue
to ignore the twins' strangely antagonistic behavior - the first
course did not suit Mrs. Brewster's plans.

Barbara, who had left the library through one of its seven doors,
had failed to see Mrs. Brewster by the slightest margin; she was