of
palms. This dreamlike spot of beauty was occupied by an incessantly
restless throng of lean, sallow-faced men in sack-coats, with hats on
the backs of their heads and cigars in the corners of their mouths.
The air was full of tobacco smoke and the click of heels on the marble
pavement. At one side was a great onyx-and-marble desk, looking like
a soda-water fountain without the silver faucets, and it was the
thin-cheeked, elegant young-old man behind this structure who gave
instructions whereby Mrs. Marshall and her two daughters found their
way to Aunt Victoria's immense and luxurious room. She was very glad
to see them, shaking hands with her sister-in-law in the respectful
manner which that lady always seemed to inspire in her, and embracing
her two tall young nieces with a fervor which melted Sylvia's heart
back to her old childish adoration.

"What _beautiful_ children you have, Barbara!" cried Mrs.
Marshall-Smith, holding Judith off at arm's length and looking from
her to Sylvia; "although I suppose I ought not to tell them that!" She
looked at Sylvia with an affectionate laugh. "Will you be spoiled if I
tell you you are very pretty?" she asked.

"I can't think of anything but how pretty _you_ are!" said Sylvia,
voicing honestly what was in her mind.

This answer caused her aunt to cry out: "Oh! Oh! And tact too! She's
meant for social success!" She left this note to vibrate in Sylvia's
ears and turned again to her sister-in-law with hospitable remarks
about the removing of wraps. As this was being done, she took
advantage of the little bustle to remark from the other side of the
room, "I rather hoped Elliott would come with you." She spoke lightly,
but there was the tremor of feeling in her sweet voice which Sylvia
found she remembered as though it had been but yesterday she had heard
it last.

"You didn't ask him," said Mrs. Marshall, with her usual directness.

Mrs. Marshall-Smith arched her eyebrows, dropped her eyelids, and
shook her head. "No, I didn't ask him," she admitted, and then with a
little wry twist of her lips, "But I rather hoped he might feel like
coming." She looked down at her hands.

Mrs. Marshall surprised her daughters very much by going across the
room and kissing her husband's sister. Mrs. Marshall-Smith took the
other's strong, hard hand between her soft fingers. "That's generous
in you, Barbara," she said, looking intently into the pitying dark
eyes, "I'm human, you know,"