She was breakfasting with her father. They were to forage for luncheon
to-day, these two, and spoke of it; he naming the club, she electing her
cousins the Cooneys. And here was the token of the more cheerful
atmosphere prevailing this morning in the house. Mrs. Heth was
entertaining a lunch-party of seven ladies, her contemporaries, at two
o'clock this day. True, the invitations had been issued before the
crash: but the hopeful point, as even the servants were aware, was that
they had not been recalled.

They were glad that mamma felt like seeing people again; and said so.
And Cally then asked her father if he had any engagement for
the evening.

Mr. Heth glanced at her over his "Post," and his glance feared that he
saw yet another conference advancing upon him. Yet, it was fair to say,
he had not been by any means inconvincible about the new Works. Real
estate was real estate, say what you would; and it might be that the
violent shake-up in the family plans had made the immediate future of
the business a somewhat concrete issue.

He said, guardedly perhaps: "To-night?--let's see.... Well, not that I
think of just now."

But Cally merely wanted to propose a table of bridge in the library, he
and she against a third and fourth. And papa's changed expression said
at once that that was a horse of another color.

"Well, that'd suit me.... Suit me first-rate."

Their evening was so arranged. She warned him gaily to be on his mettle;
she would pick up two of the keenest players to be found. Papa, with
gathering zest, admitted that practice was what he needed, most
particularly as to the bids. Had a rubber at the club Saturday night,
and Carmichael and those fellows took nine dollars from her
old daddy....

"Let's make it a standing engagement, papa--one evening a week, the same
table!... Oh, I'd love to!..."

This, too, seemed remarkably suited to her father's whim. A decidedly
amiable-looking gentleman he was, with his fresh coloring, spotless
waistcoat and fine blond mustaches; a home-loving man, not much used to
having parties given for him.

And Cally regarded him with eyes which held new depths of affection. The
last moment of the interview yesterday had brought an undreamed
development, strangely endearing: her father, in the nicest way, had
invited Dr. Vivian to call on him at the Works this afternoon and see
the plant for himself. Part of this perfect consummation had been due,
without doubt, to Vivian