ried in every way I could to explain away my fears. I mustn't be
hasty. Well-mannered thoughts didn't jump to foolish conclusions. Breck
would probably explain the situation to me. I must wait with calmness
and composure. And I did, all the next day, and the next, and the third,
until finally there arrived one of Breck's infrequent scrawls.

The envelope was post-marked Maine. I opened it, and read:

"DEAR RUTH:

"I am crazy to see you. It seems like a week of Sundays. The
mater got a notion she wanted me to come up to Bar Harbor and
bring down the yacht. I brought three fellows with me. Some
spree! But we're good little boys. The captain struck. Waiting
for another. Won't round up at your place for another week. I'm
yours and don't forget it. It seems like a week of Sundays.
Mater popped the news she's going to open up old Grassmere
pretty soon. Then it will be like a week of holidays for yours
truly, if you're at home to sit in that pergola effect with.
Savvy? Showed the fellows the snapshots tonight but didn't tell
them. Haven't touched a drop for four weeks and three days.
Never did that stunt for any queen before. Good-night, you
little fish. Don't worry about that though. I'll warm you up
O.K. Trust Willie."

I used to feel apologetic for Breck's letters, and tear them up as
quickly as possible, before any one could see how crude and ill-spelled
they were. But I wasn't troubled about such details in this letter. It
brought immense relief. Breck was so natural and so obviously unaware of
trouble brewing at home. Surely, I needn't be alarmed. The invitation
for the masquerade might have been misdirected or have slipped down
behind something. Accidents do take place. Of course it was most
unfortunate, but fate performs unfortunate feats sometimes.

In my eagerness to dispel my fears it never crossed my mind that Breck's
absence was planned, so that Mrs. Sewall could start her attack without
interference. She was a very clever woman, an old and experienced hand
at social maneuvers. I am only a beginner. It was an uneven, one-sided
fight--for fight it was after all. She won. She bore away the laurels. I
bore away simply the tattered remnants of my self-respect.

* * * * *

Every year at the Hilton Country Club a local horse show is held in
mid-August, and many of the summer colonists--women as well as
men--exhibit and take part in the d