"It's true, Warren. I've known that for years--everybody knows
it!"

"Well," Warren Gregory said stubbornly, "she's making a great hit
just the same. She's going up to the Royces' next week for the
Bowditch theatricals, and she's asked to the Pinckard dinner
dance. She may not go on account of her mourning."

"Her mourning is rather absurd under the circumstances," Rachael
said vaguely, antagonized against anyone he chose to defend. "And
if people choose to treat her as if she were Mrs. Frothingham's
daughter instead of what she really is, it's nice for Magsie! But
I don't see why we should."

"We might because she is such a nice, simple girl," Warren
suggested, "and because we like her! I'm not trying to keep in the
current; I've no social axe to grind; I merely suggested it, and
if you don't want to--"

"Oh, of course, if you put it that way!" Rachael said with a faint
shrug.. "I'll get hold of some eligibles--we'll have Charlie, and
have rather a youthful dinner!"

Warren, who was shaving, was silent for a few minutes, then he
said thoughtfully:

"I don't imagine that Charlie is the sort of person who will
interest her. She may be only twenty-two, but she is older than
most girls in things like that. She's had more offers now than you
could shake a stick at--"