aghast; seemed to ask her to repeat what she
said. She evidently did. Now Arthur looked askance as if her words
shocked him.

Her father and mother, too, exchanged glances of dismay and chagrin. The
throng of friends pressing forward in noisy salutation was silenced as
if a great hand were clapped over every murmurous mouth.

Orson wondered what terrible thing the girl could have spoken. There was
nothing coarse in her manner. Delicacy and grace seemed to mark her. And
whatever it was she said she smiled luminously when she said it.

The look in her eyes was incompatible with profanity, mild soever. Yet
her language must have been appalling, for her father and mother blushed
and seemed to be ashamed of bringing her into the world, sorry that she
had come home. The ovation froze away into a confused babble.

What could the girl have said?

II

Orson was called in by the station agent before he could question any of
the greeters. When he was released the throng had dispersed. The
Terriberrys had clambered into the family surrey and driven home with
their disgrace.

But that night there was a party at the Littons', planned in Emma's
honor. Tudie had invited Orson to be present.

He found that the one theme of conversation was Emma. Everybody said to
him, "Have you seen Emma?" and when he said "Yes," everybody demanded,
"Have you heard her?" and when he said "No" everybody said, "Just you
wait!"

Orson was growing desperate over the mystery. He seized Newt Elkey by
the arm and said, "What does she do?"

"What does who do?"

"This Miss Em Terriberry. Everybody says, 'Have you heard her?'"

"Well, haven't you?"

"No! What under the sun does she say?"

"Just you wait. 'Shh!"

Then Emma came down the stairs like a slowly swooping angel.

She had seemed a princess in her traveling-togs; in her evening gown--!
Orson had not seen such a gown since he had been in Paris. He imagined
this girl poised on the noble stairway of the Opera there. Em came
floating down upon these small-town girls with this fabric from heavenly
looms, and reduced them once for all to a chorus.

But there was no scorn in her manner and no humility in her welcome. The
Carthage girls frankly gave her her triumph, yet when she reached the
foot of the stairs and the waiting Arthur she murmured something that
broke the spell. The crowd rippled with suppressed amusement. Arthur
flushed.

Orson was again too remote to hear. But he could fe