yesterday; and that proves she must have been talking to some of
'em, or else how----"

Alice laughed airily, but the pretty sound ended abruptly with an
audible intake of breath. "Of course, while Mildred IS my
most intimate friend," she said, "I don't mean she tells me
everything--and naturally she has other friends besides. What
else did your sister say she told them about this Mr. Russell?"

"Well, it seems he's VERY well off; at least Henrietta Lamb told
Ella he was. Ella says----"

Alice interrupted again, with an increased irritability. "Oh,
never mind what Ella says! Let's find something better to talk
about than Mr. Russell!"

"Well, I'M willing," Mr. Dowling assented, ruefully. "What you
want to talk about?"

But this liberal offer found her unresponsive; she sat leaning
back, silent, her arms along the arms of her chair, and her eyes,
moist and bright, fixed upon a wide doorway where the dancers
fluctuated. She was disquieted by more than Mildred's reserve,
though reserve so marked had certainly the significance of a
warning that Alice's definition, "my most intimate friend,"
lacked sanction. Indirect notice to this effect could not well
have been more emphatic, but the sting of it was left for a later
moment. Something else preoccupied Alice: she had just been
surprised by an odd experience. At first sight of this Mr.
Arthur Russell, she had said to herself instantly, in words as