should naturally think the Gay Lady's clothes cost considerably less
than Miss Camellia's."

"Considerably."

"Though I never really thought about them before," he owned. "I don't
suppose a man usually does think much about a woman's clothes--unless
he's forced to. During this last week it occurs to me we've been forced
to--eh?"

"Somewhat." I was smiling to myself. I had never imagined that the
Philosopher troubled himself with such matters at all.

"And I don't think," he went on, "I like being forced to spend my time
speculating on the cost of anybody's clothing.--How comfortable it is on
this porch! And how jolly not to have to sit up in a black coat--on a
July evening!"

The Skeptic and the Gay Lady returned--after an hour. The Skeptic, as he
came into the light which streamed out across the porch from the hall,
looked decidedly more cheerful than when he had left us. Although it had
been too dark in the garden to see either the Gay Lady's clothes or her
smile, I doubted if he had been bored.




III

DAHLIA