old brilliant charm. All the old friends rallied about her--they
had not seen much of her since her marriage--and found her more
magnetic than ever. The circumstances of her marriage were blotted
out by more recent events now: there was the Chase divorce to
discuss; the Villalonga motor-car accident; Elinor Vanderwall had
astonished everybody a few weeks before by her sudden marriage to
millions in the person of old Peter Pomeroy; now people were
beginning to say that Jeanette Vanderwall might soon be expected
to follow suit with Peter's nephew George. The big, beautifully
decorated reception-room hummed with gay gossip, with the tinkling
laughter of women and the deeper tones of men.

Caterers' men began to work their way through the crush, bearing
indiscriminately trays of bouillon, sandwiches, salads, and ices.
The bride, with her surrounding bridesmaids, was still standing at
the far end of the room mechanically shaking hands, and smilingly
saying something dazed and inappropriate to her friends as they
filed by; but now various groups, scattered about the room, began
to interest themselves in the food. Elderly persons, after looking
vaguely about for seats, disposed of their coffee and salad while
standing, and soon there was a general breaking-up; the Buckney-
Hoyt wedding was almost a thing of the past.

Rachael, thinking of the impending dinner-hour of little Gerald
Fairfax Gregory, began to watch the swirling groups for Warren.
They could slip away now, surely; several persons had already
gone. Her heart was in her nursery, where Jim was toddling back
and forth tirelessly in the firelight, and where, between the
white bars of the new crib, was the tiny roll of snowy blankets
that enclosed the new baby.