promised. But there were stories--that must be it! She had
a daughter and stowed her away somewhere. No two women could be as
alike as that except mother and daughter--don't see it too often at
that. Why, the very way she carries her head--her _style_ . . . wonder
where she kept her? That girl has been educated and has all the air of
the best society. Must have got friends to adopt her. Gad! What a
secret chapter. But why on earth does she let the girl run round
loose?"

"I shouldn't say she was a day under twenty-eight. No doubt she looked
younger from where you were sitting."

"Twenty-eight! Mary must have begun sooner than we heard. But--well,
we never felt that we knew Mary--that was one of her charms. She kept
us guessing, as you young fellows say, and she had the devil's own
light in her eyes sometimes." His own orb lit up again. "Wonder if
Mary is here? No doubt she's come over to get her property back--she
never transferred her investments and of course it was alienated during
the war. But not a soul has heard from her. I am sure of that. We
were discussing her the other night at dinner and wondering if her
fortune had been turned over. It was at Jane Oglethorpe's. Jane and a
good many of the other women have seen her from time to time
abroad--stayed at her castle in Hungary during the first years of her
marriage; but they drifted apart as friends do. . . . She must be a
wreck, poor thing. She ran a hospital during the war and was in Buda
Pesth for some time after the revolution broke out. I hope she had the
girl well hidden away."

"Perhaps she sent the girl over to look after her affairs."

"That's it. Beyond a doubt. And I'll find out. Trent is Mary's
attorney and trustee. I'll make him open up."

"And you'll call on her?"

"Won't I? That is, I'll make Trent take me. I never want to look at
poor Mary again, but I'd feel young---- Hello! I believe you're hit!"
Mr. Dinwiddie, having solved his problems, was quite himself again and
alert for one of the little dramas that savored his rather tasteless
days. "I'd like that. I'll introduce you and give you my blessing.
Wrong side of the blanket, though."

"Don't care a hang."

"That's right. Who cares about anything these days? And you can only
be young once." He sighed. "And if she's like her mother--only
halfway like her inside--she'll be worth it."

"Is that a promise?"

"We'll shake on it. I'll see Trent in the