astened to her rescue. "Fanny is quite right, Mrs.
Waldron. You meet women nowadays whose grandfathers, if they had any,
were paving the streets while your own were governing the country and
who, just because they happen to be beastly rich, put on airs that
would be comical in an empress. Now, won't you change your mind and
come with us? At Sherry's there are always some choice selections on
view."

"You are not very tempting, Arthur. But if the girls think otherwise,
take them. And don't forget. You dine with us tonight."

Thereat, presently, after a scurry through sunshine and streets,
Sherry's was reached.

There Annandale wanted to order a chateaubriand. The girls rebelled.
A maitre d'hotel suggested melons and a supreme with a bombe to
follow.

Annandale turned to him severely. "Ferdinand, I object to your telling
me what you want me to eat."

"Let me order," said Sylvia. "Fanny, what would you like?"

"Cucumbers, asparagus, strawberries."

"Chicken?"

Fanny nodded.

"Yes," said Annandale to the chastened waiter, "order that and some
moselle, and I want a Scotch and soda. There's Orr," he interrupted
himself to announce. "I wonder what he is doing uptown? And there's
Loftus."

At the mention of Orr, Fanny, who had been eying an adjacent gown,
evinced no interest. But at the mention of Loftus she glanced about
the room.

It was large, high-ceiled, peopled with actresses and men-about-town,
smart women and stupid boys, young girls and old beaux. From a balcony
there dripped the twang of mandolins. In the air was the savor of
pineapple, the smell of orris, the odor of food and flowers.

On entering Sylvia had stopped to say a word at one table, Fanny had
loitered at another. Then in their trip to a table already reserved,
a trip conducted by the maitre d'hotel whom Annandale had rebuked,
murmurs trailed after them, the echo of their names, observations
profoundly analytical. "That's Fanny Price, the great beauty." "That's
Miss Waldron, who is engaged to Arthur Annandale." "That is Annandale
there"--the usual subtleties of the small people of a big city. Now,
at the entrance, Orr and Loftus appeared.

"Shall I ask them to join us?" Annandale asked.

"Yes, do," said Fanny. "I like Mr. Orr so much."

But Loftus, who, with his hands in his pockets, a monocle in his eye,
had been looking about with an air of great contempt for everybody,
already with Orr was approaching. On reaching the table very litt