pliable, graceful figure so many silent arguments, as they always were,
against any one's harboring annoyance toward her.

"You say he does, mother, and you have assured him of it so often that
the poor man doesn't dare to say otherwise; but really, if you'd let him
have the latest Weber and Field hit, I think he would be so grateful."

"Learn it then!" returned Mrs. Evringham.

Eloise laughed lazily. "Intrepid little mother!" Then she added, in a
different tone, "Don't you think there is any danger of our being too
obliging? I'm not the only girl in town whose mother wishes her to
oblige Dr. Ballard. May we not overreach ourselves?"

"Eloise!" Mrs. Evringham's half-affectionate, half-remonstrating grasp
fell from her child's shoulders. "That remark is in very bad taste."

The girl shook her head slowly. "I never can understand why it is any
satisfaction to you to pretend. You find comfort in pretending that
Mr. Evringham likes to have us here, likes us to use his carriages, to
receive his friends, and all the rest of it. We've been here seven weeks
and three days, and that little game of pretending is satisfying you
still. You are like the ostrich with its head in the sand."

Mrs. Evringham drew her lithe figure up. "Well, Eloise, I hope there are
limits to this. To call your own mother an--an ostrich!"

"Don't speak so loud," returned the girl, rising and patting her
mother's hand. "Grandfather has returned from his ride. I just heard him
come in. It is too near dinner time for a scene. There is no need of our