ceable relaxation took place in
Sylvia. It did not seem to her at just that moment of great importance
that she could speak good French.

With desperate haste she was saying to herself, "At least Molly
doesn't know about anything. I told her I didn't care. She believed
me. I must go on pretending that I don't. But can I! But can I!"

Light, rapid steps came flying up the stairs and down the long hall.
"Sylvia! Sylvia!" Molly was evidently hesitating between doors.

"Here--this way--last door--Aunt Victoria's room!" called Sylvia, and
felt like a terror-stricken actor making a first public appearance,
enormously surprised, relieved, and heartened to find her usual voice
still with her. As Molly came flying into the room, she ran to meet
her. They fell into each other's arms with incoherent ejaculations
and, under the extremely appreciative eye of Mrs. Marshall-Smith,
kissed each other repeatedly.

"Oh, isn't she the dear!" cried Molly, shaking out amply to the breeze
a victor's easy generosity. "Isn't she the darlingest girl in the
world! She _understands_ so! When I saw how perfectly _sweet_ she was
the day Arnold and Judith announced their engagement, I said to myself
I wanted her to be the first person I spoke to about mine."

The approach of the inexorable necessity for her first words roused
Sylvia to an inspiration which struck out an almost visible spark
of admiration from her aunt. "You just count too much on my being
'queer,' Molly," she said playfully, pulling the other girl down
beside her, with an affectionate gesture. "How do _you_ know that I'm
not fearfully jealous of you? _Such_ a charmer as your fiance is!"

Molly laughed delightedly. "Isn't she wonderful--not to care a
bit--really!" she appealed to Sylvia's aunt. "How anybody _could_
resist Felix--but then she's so clever. She's wonderful!"

Sylvia, smiling, cordial, clear-eyed and bitter-hearted, thought that
she really was.

"But I can't talk about it here!" cried Molly restlessly. "I came to
carry Sylvia off. I can't sit still at home. I want to go ninety miles
an hour! I can't think straight unless I'm behind the steering-wheel.
Come along, Sylvia!"

Mrs. Marshall-Smith thereupon showed herself, for all her amenity and
grace, more of a match of Molly's force and energy than either Sylvia
or Morrison had been on a certain rather memorable occasion ten
days before. She opposed the simple irresistible obstacle of a flat
command. "Sylvia's _n