envied.

"My dear," said Mrs. Cowles, at a women's luncheon, "you were
extraordinarily clever, of course, but don't forget that you were
extremely lucky, too. Clarence making no fuss, taking all the
trouble to provide the evidence, and Greg being only too anxious
to step into his shoes, made it easy for you!"

"I'm no prude," Rachael smiled, over a raging heart. "But I
couldn't see this coming, nobody did. All I could do was to break
free before my self-respect was absolutely gone!"

"Go tell that to the White Wings, darling," laughed Mrs.
Villalonga, lazily blowing smoke into rings and spirals.

"Seriously, Vera, I mean it!"

"Seriously, Rachael, do you mean to tell me that you hadn't the
SLIGHTEST idea--" Mrs. Villalonga roused herself, to smilingly
study the other woman's face as she asked the question. "Not a
word--not a HINT?"

"Ah, well--" Rachael's face was flaming. She would have put her
hand in the fire to be able to say "No." The others laughed
cheerfully.

"Nobody misunderstands you, dear: you were in a rotten fix and you
got out of it nicely," said fat Mrs. Moran, and Mrs. Villalonga
added consolingly: "Why, my heavens, Rachael, I'd leave Booth to-
morrow for anyone half as handsome as Warren Gregory!"