husband, the patient Richard, seeing the youth ensconce himself
firmly beside her in the limousine, had had aside his mild
comment: "Is this young man a fixture in our family, dear?"

"You should be playing tennis, Tony," said Isabelle.

"Tennis!" He laughed; there was a slight movement of his broad
shoulders.

"I think Miss Betty Allen was a little disappointed," the woman
pursued. A look of distaste crossed Anthony's face.

"Please--CHERIE!" he begged.

There was a silence brimming with sweetness and colour. Tony laid
his hand against her knee, groped until her own warm, smooth
fingers were in his own.

"Does Mr. Carter play golf to-morrow?" he asked, presently.

"I suppose so!"

"And you--what do you do?"

"Oh, I have a full day! People to lunch, friends of Madame Carter-
"

The boy laughed triumphantly.

"I knew you'd say that!" he said. "Now, I'll tell YOU about to-