curtain-poles by the
dozen." Sallie does not mind an extra word or two to strengthen a simile.
I tried to imagine Alice and Mr. Frost gulping down the articles Sallie
mentioned, but mine was no match for Sallie's nimble fancy and I gave it
up. "I do hope that Pet Winterbotham will not marry that man. I should as
soon see her led to the altar by a satin-lined casket. I had to invite him
when I found that Frankie could come. Wasn't Brian Beck dreadful, and
didn't you think you would go to sleep under Frank Mayo's stories? And
didn't Grace Beck's airs with Mr. Whitehouse amuse you? Oh, she will hold
that head of hers so high if Pet marries Jack. How bored Asbury looked,
didn't he? So selfish of him not to pretend to be pleased. Even Rachel
vexed me by not being nicer to Asbury. I declare, Ruth, I was so irritated
at the queer way every one acted, I felt as if it would be a relief to
make faces at them, instead of beaming on them the hospitable beam of a
hostess. I wonder how they would have liked it."

"They might have considered it rather unconventional perhaps."

Sallie smiled absent-mindedly, pressed her hand to her flushed cheek,
looked over towards the Mayo house, and then, meeting my inquiring glance,
dropped her eyes in confusion.

"Well," I said tentatively.

Sallie leaned back in her chair, put her hands behind her head, and closed
her eyes.

"I wonder," she said dreamily, "why I ever attempt to do things. Why can't
people let me alone, and why don't I let them alone? Most of all, why do I
ever try to keep a secret?"

I knew then that she had been rattling on because her mind was full of
something else. I don't believe she knew half that she had said. Presently
to my surprise I saw a tear steal down her cheek.

"O Sallie!" I exclaimed, now really worried, "what is it?"

"I'll tell you, Ruth, for you are the only one who seems really to know
and love that dear little Nellie Mayo and those blessed babies. Ruth,
there is a Damocles sword hanging over that nest of birds, and it is
liable to fall at any moment. Oh, it has weighed on my heart like lead
ever since I discovered the secret. I know you don't like Frank Mayo, but
you will despise him when I tell you the mischief he is up to, and that
poor little wife of his trusting him as if he were an archangel. Oh, he
is common, Ruth, and horrid, and if it is ever found out it will kill
Nellie. But he is carrying on dreadfully with a soubrette in New York. He
is