light," explained Mrs. Haverford. "She's driving me round. She
won't come in, and she's forgotten her fur coat. And it's simply bitter
outside. Well, my dear, how are you?"

Natalie was well, and said so. She was conscious that Mrs. Haverford
was listening with only half an ear, and indeed, a moment later she had
risen again and hurried to the window.

"Natalie!" she cried. "Do come and watch. She's turning the car. We do
think she drives wonderfully. Only a few days, too."

"Why won't she come in?"

"I'm sure I don't know. Unless she is afraid Graham may be here."

"What in the world has Graham got to do with it?" Natalie's voice was
faintly scornful.

"I was going to ask you that, Natalie. Have they quarreled, or
anything?"

"I don't think they meet at all, do they?"

"They met once since Clayton gave Doctor Haverford the car. Graham
helped her when she had got into a ditch, I believe. And I thought
perhaps they had quarreled about something."

"That would imply a degree of intimacy that hardly exists, does it?"
Natalie said, sharply.

But Mrs. Haverford had not fought the verbal battles of the parish for
twenty years in vain.

"It was the day of that unfortunate incident at the country club,
Natalie."

Natalie colored.

"Accident, rather than incident."

"How is the poor child?"

"He is quite well again," Natalie said impatiently "I can not understand
the amount of fuss every one makes over the boy. He ran in front of
where Graham was driving and got what he probably deserved."

"I understand Clayton has given him a position."

"He has made him an office boy."

"How like dear Clayton!" breathed Mrs. Haverford, and counted the honors
as hers. But she had not come to quarrel. She had had, indeed, a frankly
benevolent purpose in coming, and she proceeded to carry it out at once.

"I do think, my dear," she said, "that some one ought to tell Audrey
Valentine the stories that are going about."

"What has she been doing?" Natalie asked, with her cool smile. "There is
always some story about Audrey, isn't there?"

"Do you mean to say you haven't heard?"

"I don't hear much gossip."

Mrs. Haverford let that pass.

"You know how rabid she has been about the war. Well, the story is," she
went on, with a certain unction, "that she has driven Chris to enlisting
in the Foreign Legion, or something. Anyhow, he sailed from Halifax last
week."

Natalie straightened in her chair.

"Are you certain?