of Tartary, if that dignitary had had a
phone number and been an annoyance to Francis Ellison.

Logan, to her surprise, accepted eagerly, and even forgot to be
mannered. He did, it must be said, keep her at the telephone, which
was a stand-up one, for an hour, while he talked brilliantly about the
Italian renaissance in its ultimate influence on the arts and crafts
movement of the present day. To listen to Logan was a liberal
education at any moment, if a trifle too much like attending a lecture.
But at least he didn't expect much answering.

She went to the office, next day, in more or less of a dream. She was
very quiet, and worked very hard. Nobody said much to her; she took
care not to let them. When stray congratulations came her way, as they
were bound to, and when old Mr. Morrissey, the vice-head, said, "I
suppose we can't hope to keep you long now," and beamed, she answered
without any heartbeatings or difficulty. She was quite sure she would
never feel gay again; she had had so much happen to her. But it was
rather pleasant not to be able to have any feelings, if a little
monotonous. The only thing at all on her mind was the question as to
how much cheese a party of four needed for a rarebit, and whether Logan
would or could eat rarebits at night. And even that was to a certain
degree a matter of indifference.

She finally decided that scallops a la King might be more what he would
eat. She bought them on her way home, together with all the rest of
the things she needed. Lucille had produced a fourth person with her
usual lack of effort, and it promised to be--if anything in life could
have been anything but flavorless--rather a good party.

In fact, it was. It was a dear little apartment that the girls shared,
with a living-room chosen especially for having nice times in. It was
lighted by tall candles, and had a gas grate that was almost human.
There was a grand piano which took up more than its share of room,
there was the davenport aforesaid, there were companionable chairs and
taborets acquired by Lucille and kept by Marjorie in the exact places
where they looked best; there were soft draperies, also hemmed and put
up by Marjorie. The first thing visitors always said about it was that
it made them feel comfortable and at home. They generally attributed
the homelikeness to Lucille, who was dangerously near looking matronly,
rather than to Marjorie, who would be more like a firefly than a m