and Ethel said, in a tone of longing,

"I wish that I had been a Greek and lived in Argos."

"You would not have liked it as well as being an American and living in
New York," said her father.

"And you would have been a pagan," added Ruth.

"They were such lovely pagans, Ruth, and they dreamed such beautiful
dreams of life. Leave the book with me, father; I will take good care of
it."

Then the Judge gave her the book, and with a sigh looked into the modern
street. "I ought to be down at Bowling Green instead of reading
Greek stories to you girls," he said rather brusquely. "I have a very
important railway case on my mind, and Phoebus Apollo has nothing to
do with it. Good morning. And, Ethel, do not deify the singer on the
avenue. He will not turn out, like the singer by the portico, to be a
god; be sure of that."

The door closed before she could answer, and both women remained silent
a few minutes. Then Ethel went to the window, and Ruth asked if she was
going to Dora's.

"Yes," was the answer, but without interest.

"You are tired with all this shopping and worry?"

"It is not only that I am tired, I am troubled about Fred Mostyn."

"Why?"

"I do not know why. It is only a vague unrest as yet. But one thing I
know, I shall oppose anything like Fred making himself intimate with
Dora."

"I think you will do wisely in that."

But in a week Ethel realized that in opposing a lover like Fred Mostyn
she had a task beyond her ability. Fred had nothing to do as important
in his opinion as the cultivation of his friendship with Dora Denning.
He called it "friendship," but this misnomer deceived no one, not even
Dora. And when Dora encouraged his attentions, how was Ethel to prevent
them without some explanation which would give a sort of reality to what
was as yet a nameless suspicion?

Yet every day the familiarity increased. He seemed to divine their
engagements. If they went to their jeweler's, or to a bazaar, he was
sure to stroll in after them. When they came out of the milliner's or
modiste's, Fred was waiting. "He had secured a table at Sherry's; he had
ordered lunch, and all was ready." It was too great an effort to resist
his entreaty. Perhaps no one wished to do so. The girls were utterly
tired and hungry, and the thought of one of Fred's lunches was very
pleasant. Even if Basil Stanhope was with them, it appeared to be all
the better. Fred always included Dora's lover with a charming courtesy;
a