f he would just let Carrie see one
such little incident as that of Thursday, it would settle the matter.
He ran on in thought, almost exulting, the while he laughed and chatted,
and Drouet felt nothing. He had no power of analysing the glance and the
atmosphere of a man like Hurstwood. He stood and smiled and accepted the
invitation while his friend examined him with the eye of a hawk.

The object of this peculiarly involved comedy was not thinking of
either. She was busy adjusting her thoughts and feelings to newer
conditions, and was not in danger of suffering disturbing pangs from
either quarter. One evening Drouet found her dressing herself before the
glass.

"Cad," said he, catching her, "I believe you're getting vain."

"Nothing of the kind," she returned, smiling.

"Well, you're mighty pretty," he went on, slipping his arm around her.
"Put on that navy-blue dress of yours and I'll take you to the show."

"Oh, I've promised Mrs. Hale to go with her to the Exposition to-night,"
she returned, apologetically.

"You did, eh?" he said, studying the situation abstractedly. "I wouldn't
care to go to that myself."

"Well, I don't know," answered Carrie, puzzling, but not offering to
break her promise in his favour.

Just then a knock came at their door and the maidservant handed a letter
in.

"He says there's an answer expected," she explained.

"It's from Hurstwood," said Drouet, noting the superscription as he tore
it open.

"You are to come down and see Joe Jefferson with me to-night," it ran
in part. "It's my turn, as we agreed the other day. All other bets are
off."

"Well, what do you say to this?" asked Drouet, innocently, while
Carrie's mind bubbled with favourable replies.

"You had better decide, Charlie," she said, reservedly.

"I guess we had better go, if you can break that engagement upstairs,"
said Drouet.

"Oh, I can," returned Carrie without thinking.

Drouet selected writing paper while Carrie went to change her dress. She
hardly explained to herself why this latest invitation appealed to her
most.

"Shall I wear my hair as I did yesterday?" she asked, as she came out
with several articles of apparel pending.

"Sure," he returned, pleasantly.

She was relieved to see that he felt nothing. She did not credit her
willingness to go to any fascination Hurstwood held for her. It
seemed that the combination of Hurstwood, Drouet, and herself was
more agreeable than anything else that h