no "sets," and where one met the most
interesting people of all walks in life. She often wondered hew the
Misses Partridge, with their slight resources, physical and material,
accomplished it, envying them somewhat their success. She wondered less,
and envied them less, after she had seen them at Cannes.

Miss Rosamond's deep bass voice, the perfect expression of her red face
and man-like way of dressing, were the first influence in winning her.
"My dear, there's the very hotel for you close beside us, where we could
see you all the time. We stay there ourselves when we're opening and
closing the villa. Big garden for the children--runs right down to the
sea--and nothing but nice people of your own kind."

Edith couldn't help the suspicion that the distinguished stranger at Cap
d'Ail had inspired Miss Partridge's solicitude, but neither did she
resent this. Miss Gladys accompanied her to the hotel in question, to
bring her personal powers to bear on the proprietor, and to help in the
selection of rooms, so that next day Edith was able to move over. In
this way it happened that on the following Sunday she found herself
seated beside Sir Noel Ordway.

The luncheon party was again a collection of cosmopolitan odds and
ends--but with a difference. There was a foreign royalty with his
morganatic wife, the American wife of an English peer, two or three
notable Russians, a French painter of international fame, together with
some half-dozen English and Americans of no importance, among whom
Edith classed herself and the young Englishman beside her.

Between him and her the friendship ripened rapidly and unexpectedly. It
was so unexpectedly that it took her off her guard. It was beyond all
the possibilities her imagination could foresee that he should fall in
love with her--a woman who had had her tragic experience, of no great
beauty, the mother of two children. It was, in fact, through the
children that he made his approaches, in as far as he made them
intentionally. She judged that he didn't do that, that he was caught
unawares, like herself. He had merely expressed a "liking for kids," and
offered to take the youngsters for an outing in his motor-car on the
following day. The kids were to go with their governess; but when he
drove up to the door, and Edith had come out to see them off, it seemed
ridiculous that she shouldn't accompany them. Besides, the governess was
young and pretty, necessitating an elderly person for