looking in from her balcony, saw her there, and, seeing
something in her face that she had never suspected, put her hand to her
throat.

"Sidney!"

"Oh--hello, Chris."

"Won't you come and sit with me?"

"I haven't much time--that is, I want to speak to K."

"You can see him when he comes down."

Sidney came slowly through the parlor. It occurred to her, all at once,
that Christine must see a lot of K., especially now. No doubt he was
in and out of the house often. And how pretty Christine was! She was
unhappy, too. All that seemed to be necessary to win K.'s attention was
to be unhappy enough. Well, surely, in that case--

"How is Max?"

"Still better."

Sidney sat down on the edge of the railing; but she was careful,
Christine saw, to face the staircase. There was silence on the balcony.
Christine sewed; Sidney sat and swung her feet idly.

"Dr. Ed says Max wants you to give up your training and marry him now."

"I'm not going to marry him at all, Chris."

Upstairs, K.'s door slammed. It was one of his failings that he always
slammed doors. Harriet used to be quite disagreeable about it.

Sidney slid from the railing.

"There he is now."

Perhaps, in all her frivolous, selfish life, Christine had never had a
bigger moment than the one that followed. She could have said nothing,
and, in the queer way that life goes, K. might have gone away from the
Street as empty of heart as he had come to it.

"Be very good to him, Sidney," she said unsteadily. "He cares so much."

CHAPTER XXX

K. was being very dense. For so long had he considered Sidney as
unattainable that now his masculine mind, a little weary with much
wretchedness, refused to move from its old attitude.

"It was glamour, that was all, K.," said Sidney bravely.

"But, perhaps," said K., "it's just because of that miserable incident
with Carlotta. That wasn't the right thing, of course, but Max has told
me the story. It was really quite innocent. She fainted in the yard,
and--"

Sidney was exasperated.

"Do you want me to marry him, K.?"

K. looked straight ahead.

"I want you to be happy, dear."

They were on the terrace of the White Springs Hotel again. K. had
ordered dinner, making a great to-do about getting the dishes they both
liked. But now that it was there, they were not eating. K. had placed
his chair so that his profile was turned toward her. He had worn the
duster religiously until nightfall, and then had disc