come to her.

"You MUST be careful, my dear," said her mother-in-law, as soon as she
learned that she had a grandmotherly interest in her daughter-in-law's
health. "You'll wear yourself out with all this running about."

Pauline laughed carelessly, recklessly.

"Oh, I'm disgustingly healthy. Nothing hurts me. Besides, if I were
quiet, I think I should--EXPLODE!"

Late in September Dumont had to go to New York. He asked her to go
with him, assuming that she would decline, as she had visitors coming.
But she was only too glad of the chance to give her increasing
restlessness wider range. They went to the Waldorf--Scarborough and
Pierson had been stopping there not a week before, making ready for
that sensational descent upon Battle Field which has already been
recorded. The first evening Dumont took her to the play. The next
morning he left her early for a busy day down-town--"and I may not be
able to return for dinner. I warned you before we left Saint X," he
said, as he rose from breakfast in their sitting-room.

"I understand," she answered. "You needn't bother to send word even,
if you don't wish. I'll be tired from shopping and shan't care to go
out this evening, anyhow."

In the afternoon she drove with Mrs. Fanshaw, wife of one of Jack's
business acquaintances--they had dined at the Fanshaws' when they
paused in New York on the way home from Europe. Pauline was at the
hotel again at five; while she and Mrs. Fanshaw were having tea
together in the palm garden a telegram was handed to her. She read it,
then said to Mrs. Fanshaw: "I was going to ask you and your husband to
dine with us. Jack sends word he can't be here, but--why shouldn't you
come just the same?"

"No you must go with us," Mrs. Fanshaw replied. "We've got a box at
Weber and Fields', and two men asked, and we need another woman. I'd
have asked you before, but there wouldn't be room for any more men."

Mrs. Fanshaw had to insist until she had proved that the invitation was
sincere; then, Pauline accepted--a distraction was always agreeable,
never so agreeable as when it offered itself unannounced. It was
toward the end of the dinner that Mrs. Fanshaw happened to say: "I see
your husband's like all of them. I don't believe there ever was a
woman an American man wouldn't desert for business."

"Oh, I don't in the least mind," replied Pauline. "I like him to show
that he feels free. Why, when we were in Paris on the return tr