if she stood up by you."

For a good many months Sylvia had been craving praise with a starved
appetite, and although she found this downpour of it rather drenching,
she could not sufficiently collect herself to make the conventional
decent pretense that it was unwelcome. She flushed deeply and looked
at her hostess with dazzled eyes. Mrs. Draper affected to see in her
silence a blankness as to the subject of the talk, and interrupted
the flow of personalities to cry out, with a pretense of horror, "You
don't mean to say you don't know who Jerry Fiske _is_!"

Sylvia, as unused as her mother to conversational traps, fell into
this one with an eager promptness. "Oh yes, indeed; I know him
by sight very well," she said and stopped, flushing again at a
significant laugh from Mrs. Draper. "I mean," she went on
with dignity, "that Mr. Fiske has always been so prominent in
college--football and all, you know--and his father being one of our
State Senators so long--I suppose everybody on the campus knows him by
sight." Mrs. Draper patted the girl's shoulder propitiatingly. "Yes,
yes, of course," she assented. She added, "He's ever so good-looking,
don't you think--like a great Viking with his yellow hair and bright
blue eyes?"

"I never noticed his eyes," said Sylvia stiffly, suspicious of
ridicule in the air.

"Well, you'll have a chance to this afternoon," answered her hostess,
"for he's the only other person who's to be admitted to the house. I
had a great time excusing myself to Eleanor--she was coming to take me
out driving--but of course it wouldn't do--for her own sake--the poor
darling--to have her here today!"

Sylvia thought she could not have rightly understood the significance
of this speech, and looked uncomfortable. Mrs. Draper said: "Oh, you
needn't mind cutting Eleanor out--she's only a dear baby who can't
feel anything very deeply. It's Mamma Hubert who's so mad about
catching Jerry. Since she's heard he's to have the Fiske estate at
Mercerton as soon as he graduates from Law School, she's like a wild
creature! If Eleanor weren't the most unconscious little bait that
ever hung on a hook Jerry'd have turned away in disgust long ago. He
may not be so very acute, but Mamma Hubert and her manoeuvers are not
millstones for seeing through!"

The doorbell rang, one long and one short tap. "That's Jerry's ring,"
said Mrs. Draper composedly, as though she had been speaking of her
husband. In an instant the heav