a brisk walk in the park."

Eunice went to her room, and came back, looking unusually
beautiful in a new spring habit. The soft fawn color suited her
dark type and a sable scarf round her throat left exposed an
adorable triangle of creamy white flesh.

"Get through with your squabbling, little boys," she said, gaily,
with a saucy smile at Hendricks and a swift, perfunctory kiss on
Embury's cheek, and then she went away with Mason Elliott.

They walked a few blocks in silence, and then Elliott said,
abruptly: "What were you and Sanford quarreling about?"

"Aren't you a little intrusive?" but a smile accompanied the
words.

"No, Eunice; it isn't intrusion. I have the right of an old
friend--more than a friend, from my point of view--and I ask only
from the best and kindest motives."

"Could you explain some those motives?" She tried to make her
voice cold and distant, but only succeeded in making it pathetic.

"I could--but I think it better, wiser and more honorable not to.
You know, dear, why I want to know. Because I want you to be the
happiest woman in the whole world--and if Sanford Embury can't
make you so--"

"Nobody can!" she interrupted him, quickly. "Don't, Mason," she