me in an hour, Marty," and disappeared with a quick injunction to
have whatever she bought sent home C.O.D.

It was actually two hours before he saw her again. He thanked his
stars that he had enough money in the bank to meet the checks that
he was required to make out in quick succession. Joan had not wasted
time, and as she got into the car to drive away from that sandwich
house of excited servants, two other milestones had been left
behind. She was in a real evening frock, and all the other things
she had bought were silk.

They drove straight home from the theater. Joan was tired. The day
had been long and filled with amazements. She was out in the world
at last. Realization had exceeded expectation for the first time in
history.

The sand-man had been busy with Martin's eyes too, but he led the
way into the dining room with shoulders square and chin high and
spring in his blood. This was home indeed.

"What a tempting little supper!" said Joan. "And just look at all
these flowers."

They were everywhere, lilacs and narcissi, daffodils, violets and
hothouse roses. Hours ago he had sent out the almost unbelieving
footman for them. Joan and flowers--they were synonymous.

She put her pretty face into a great bowl of violets. "You
remembered all my little friends, Marty," she said.