e who has any hair left on the top of his
head."

Her flippancy, her shallowness left Laura for a minute in doubt as to
how she should accept her words. Then rising from her chair, she laid
her restraining hands on Gerty's shoulders.

"My darling, do be careful," she entreated.

The shoulders beneath her hands rose in an indifferent shrug. "Oh, I've
been careful," laughed Gerty, "but it isn't any fun. Perry isn't careful
and he gets a great deal more out of life than I do."

"A great deal more of what?" demanded Laura.

For an instant Gerty thought attentively, while the mocking gayety
changed to a serious hardness upon her face.

"More forgetfulness," she answered presently. "That's what we all want
isn't it? Call it by what name you will--religion, dissipation,
morphia--what we are all trying to do is to intoxicate ourselves into
forgetting that life is life."

"But it isn't what I want," insisted Laura, "I want to feel everything
and to know that I feel it."

"Well, you're different," rejoined Gerty. "What I'm after is to be
happy, and I care very little what form it takes or what kind of
happiness mine may be. I've ceased to be particular about the details
even--if Billy Lancaster is my happiness I'll devour him and never waste
an idle moment in regret. Why should I?--Perry doesn't."

"So there's an end to Perry?"

"An end! Oh, you delicious child, there's only a beginning. Perry's cult
is the inaccessible--present him with all the virtues and he will run
away; ignore him utterly and he'll make your life insupportable by his
presence. For the last twenty-four hours I assure you he's stuck to
me--like a briar."

"Then it's all for Perry--I mean this Billy?" asked Laura.

Gerty shook her head while her brows grew slowly together in an
expression of angry bitterness.

"It was in the beginning," she responded, "but I'm not sure that it is
now--not entirely at any rate. The boy's worship is incense to my
nostrils, I suppose. Yes, I've always been a monument of indifference to
men, but I confess to an increasing enthusiasm for Billy's looks."

"An enthusiasm which Perry doesn't share?"

The laughter in Gerty's voice was a little sad. "I declare it really
hurts me that I've ceased to notice. The poor silly man offered to give
up his golf to go motoring with me yesterday afternoon, and I went and
was absolutely bored to death. I couldn't help thinking how much more
interesting Billy is."

Her veil was a