r other young ladies of her own station in life had
formed themselves, some two years before, into a coterie of five,
called The Inseparables. They lunched together, rode together, visited
together. So close was the bond and their mutual dependence so evident,
that it came to be the custom to invite the whole five whenever the
size of the function warranted it. In fact, it was far from an uncommon
occurrence to see them grouped at receptions or following one another
down the aisles of churches or through the mazes of the dance at balls
or assemblies. And no one demurred at this, for they were all handsome
and attractive girls, till it began to be noticed that, coincident
with their presence, some article of value was found missing from the
dressing-room or from the tables where wedding gifts were displayed.
Nothing was safe where they went, and though, in the course of time,
each article found its way back to its owner in a manner as mysterious
as its previous abstraction, the scandal grew and, whether with good
reason or bad, finally settled about the person of Miss Driscoll, who
was the showiest, least pecuniarily tempted, and most dignified in
manner and speech of them all.

Some instances had been given by way of further enlightenment. This is
one: A theatre party was in progress. There were twelve in the party,
five of whom were the Inseparables. In the course of the last act,
another lady--in fact, their chaperon--missed her handkerchief, an
almost priceless bit of lace. Positive that she had brought it with
her into the box, she caused a careful search, but without the least
success. Recalling certain whispers she had heard, she noted which of
the five girls were with her in the box. They were Miss Driscoll,
Miss Hughson, Miss Yates, and Miss Benedict. Miss West sat in the box
adjoining.

A fortnight later this handkerchief reappeared--and where? Among
the cushions of a yellow satin couch in her own drawing-room. The
Inseparables had just made their call and the three who had sat on the
couch were Miss Driscoll, Miss Hughson, and Miss Benedict.

The next instance seemed to point still more insistently toward the lady
already named. Miss Yates had an expensive present to buy, and the whole
five Inseparables went in an imposing group to Tiffany's. A tray of
rings was set before them. All examined and eagerly fingered the stock
out of which Miss Yates presently chose a finely set emerald. She was
leading her frie