e,
the Boy thought. The French touch was very prominent--the blend of color
seemed to speak to him of Opal. Yes, he liked the room. The effect grew
on one with the charm of the real home atmosphere that a dwelling place
should have. But he wasn't so much interested in that, after all! In
fact, it was rather unsatisfactory--without Opal! These people were
_her_ people and, of course, of more than ordinary interest to him on
her account, but still--

And at last, when the Boy was beginning to acknowledge himself slightly
bored, and to resent the familiar footing on which he could see the
Count de Roannes already stood in the family circle, Opal entered, and
the gloomy, wearisome atmosphere seemed suddenly flooded with sunlight.

She came in from the street, unconventionally removing her hat and
gloves as she entered.

"Where have you been so long, Opal?" asked Mrs. Ledoux, with
considerable anxiety.

"At the Colony Club, _ma mere_--I read a paper!"

"_Mon Dieu!_" put in the Count, in an amused tone. "On what subject?"

"On 'The Modern Ethical Viewpoint,' _Comte_," she answered, nodding her
little head sagely. "It was very convincing! In fact, I exploded a bomb
in the camp that will give them all something sensational to talk about
till--till--the next scandal!"

The Count gave a low chuckle of appreciation, while Mr. Ledoux asked,
seriously, "But to what purpose, daughter?"

"Why, papa, don't you know? I had to teach Mrs. Stuyvesant Moore, Mrs.
Sanford Wyckoff, and several other old ladies how to be good!"

And in the general laugh that followed, she added, under her breath,
"Oh, the irony of life!"

Paul watched her in a fever of boyish jealousy as she passed through the
family circle, bestowing her kisses left and right with impartial favor.
She made the rounds slowly, conscientiously, and then, with an air of
supreme indifference, moved to the Boy's side.

He leaned over her.

"Where are my kisses?" he asked softly.

She clasped her hands behind her back, child-fashion, and looked up at
him, a coquettish daring in her eyes.

"Where did you put them last?" she demanded.

"You ought to know!"

"True--I ought. But, as a matter of fact, I haven't the slightest idea.
It depends altogether upon what girl you saw last."

"If you think that of me----"

"What else can I think? Our first meeting did not leave much room for
conjecture. And, of course----"

"Opal! You have just time to dress for dinner! An