upon referring to my notes that this took place upon a Friday afternoon. Mr. Govett had not much more than left our place when Fay Brunton dropped. in. She looked sweet enough to eat. To our relief she had left the inevitable mother behind on this occasion. Fay did not take tea, but dined at six in order to have a short rest before going to the theatre. She just had fifteen minutes before dinner, she said, and had just rushed around to tell us—her news, after what we had just heard was like a bomb-shell. I could scarcely repress a cry of dismay.
“Darius and I have decided to get married on Sunday morning.” My wonderful mistress never changed a muscle of her smile.
“What!” she said with mock reproach. “Must you abandon us so soon?”
“I am not abandoning you!” said Fay, giving her a kiss. “It's the most wonderful plan!” she went on happily. “You know little Larrimore, my understudy, who is dying to have a chance at the part? Well, she is to have it. For a whole week! It's all been fixed up. It will be given out that I am indisposed. The fact of our marriage will be allowed to leak out later. And if Larrimore makes good she can keep the part. It's only that I don't want anybody to lose any money through me.
“We are to be married on Sunday morning in the hotel. Strictly private of course. And immediately afterwards we'll hop on a train for Pinehurst. Think of Pinehurst after weather like this! And what do you think? Darius has secured a loan of a private car from the president of the railway! I've never been in a private car, have you? And then a whole wonderful week in the woods!”
“Wonderful!” cried Mme. Storey, and there was not a tinge of anything but sympathy in her voice. “But are we not to see you again? To-morrow is Saturday, and you have two performances.”
“How about to-night after the show?” suggested Fay.
Mme. Storey shook her head. “I have an engagement.” This was not true. “How about to-morrow night after the show?” she went on. “I must have a chance to give you a little party before you step off into the gulf. Come here. My flat is too far up-town.”
Fay looked dubious. “I should love it,” she said, “but Darius, you know. He hates parties.”
The expression in my mistress's eyes said: “Damn Darius!” But she laughed good-humoredly. “Oh, I don't mean a party, my dear. Just you and Darius and Mrs. Brunton, Bella and I.”
“I should love it,” said Fay. “If Darius doesn't mind.”
“Why should Darius mind?” demanded my mistress. “Doesn't he like me?”
“Oh, yes!” said Fay quickly. “He admires you ever so much!”
“Then why should he mind?”
The girl could not withstand the pointblank question.
“Well, you see,” she faltered, “he thinks—that you do not like him very much—that you disapprove of him.”
“Fay,” challenged my mistress, “have I ever by word or look given you any reason to suppose such a thing?”
“Oh, no, Rosika! And so I have told him. Over and over—But he still thinks so.”
“Now look here,” said Mme. Storey. “I am never the one to interfere between a married pair—or a soon-to-be-married pair, but you must make a stand somewhere, my child, or you'll soon find yourself a loving little slave. I mean when you are in the right. Now this particular notion of Darius's is a silly notion, isn't it?”
“Y—yes,” said Fay.
“Then you should not give in to it— But look here, I'll make it easier for you. Let's pretend that it's your party. You tell Darius that you have asked Bella and me to your hotel for supper after the show on your last night, and he could not possibly object, could he?”
Fay's face lighted up. “Oh, no!” she cried. “That will be splendid!”
“All right!” said Mme. Storey. “Expect us about quarter to twelve. You'll have it in your own rooms of course, where we may be quite free.”
“Now I must run!” said Fay.
“Oh, wait a minute!” pleaded Mme. Storey, slipping her arm through the girl's. “This is the last moment I shall see you alone! There are so many things I want to talk to you about! And now you have driven them all out of my head. Is the little nest ready in the East Seventies?”
“It will be when we get back from Pinehurst.” Fay launched into an enthusiastic description.
“And what happens to Oakhurst?” asked Mme. Storey.
“Oh, didn't I tell you? Darius has put it into the hands of Merryman. It's to be sold, lock, stock and barrel.”
“And quite right, too. By the way, do you know what Darius's movements will be to-morrow? I must see him if I can, in order to remove this ridiculous wrong impression he has got of me.”