"Yes," said John, "we'll go at once. I had to run up to tell our
good news; and I wanted to tell you too, Linda dear, that I think
both of us misjudged Eileen the other day. You know, Linda, you
have always dressed according to your father's ideas, which were
so much simpler and plainer than the manner in which your mother
dressed Eileen, that she merely thought that you wished to
continue in his way. She had no objection to your having any
kind of clothes you chose, if only you had confided in her, and
explained to her what you wanted."

Linda stood beside her table, one lean hand holding down the
letter she had been writing. She stood very still, but she was
powerless to raise her eyes to the face of either John or Eileen.
Above everything she did not wish to go any further in revealing
Eileen to John Gilman. If he knew what he knew and if he felt
satisfied, after what he had seen, with any explanation that
Eileen could trump up to offer, Linda had no desire to carry the
matter further. She had been ashamed of what she already had
done. She had felt angry and dissatisfied with herself, so she
stood before them downcast and silent.

"And it certainly was a great joke on both of us," said John
jovially, "what we thought about that box of cigarettes, you
know. They were a prize given by a bridge club at an
'Ambassador' benefit for the Good Samaritan Hospital. Eileen,
the little card shark she is, won it, and she was keeping it
hidden away there to use as a gift for my birthday. Since we
disclosed her plans prematurely, she gave it to me at once, and
I'm having a great time treating all my friends."