y a cloud of
bright chestnut hair that matched her eyes to a shade, her serene brow
and her exquisite clothes. She did not carry herself well according to
his standard; "well" when she came out six years ago had meant laxity
of shoulders and pride of stomach, and in spite of her devotion to
outdoor sports she had fallen a prey to fashion. She so far
disapproved of the new fashion in girls, however, that she was making
an effort to stand erect and she had even banished powder from her
clear warm skin. Today she was becomingly dressed in taupe velvet,
with stole and muff and turban of sable; but Clavering had fancied that
her fine face wore a weary discontented expression until she saw him,
when it changed swiftly to a sort of imperious gladness. It made him
vaguely uncomfortable. He had never flattered himself that she loved
him, but he had believed in the possibility of winning her. He had
later chosen to believe that she had grown as indifferent as himself,
and he wondered, as he stood plunging about in his mind for an excuse
to avoid a tete-a-tete, why she had not married.

"Well--you see----"

"Come now! You don't go to teas, men never call these days, and you
surely have done your column for tomorrow. Here is the car. You can
spare me an hour."

He had always avoided any appearance of rudeness and in his mind at
least he had treated her badly; he followed her without further
hesitation, trusting to his agile mind to keep her off the subject of
Madame Zattiany. This he would do at the cost of rudeness itself, for
he would not permit fiasco at the last moment.

The street was packed with automobiles and taxis, and after a slow
progress toward Fifth Avenue they arrived in time to see the traffic
towers flash on the yellow light and were forced to halt for another
three minutes. He had started an immediate discussion of the play she
had just witnessed, knowing her love of argument, but she suddenly
broke off and laid her hand on his arm.

"Look!" she exclaimed. "The famous Countess Zattiany in that car with
mother. Of course you know her; you were with her at the opera on the
historic night, weren't you? Tell me! What is she like? Did you ever
hear of anything so extraordinary?"

"Never. I really know her very slightly. But as I had met her and she
had kindly asked me to dinner, I was glad to return the compliment when
Mrs. Oglethorpe sent me her box, as she always does once or twice
during the