Jane came to see me after lunch. The wedding was that night, and I had to sit through silver vegetable dishes, and after-dinner coffee sets and plates and a grand piano and a set of gold vases and a cabushion sapphire and the bridesmaid's clothes and the wedding supper and heaven knows what. But at last she said: "You dear thing--how weary and wan you look!" I closed my eyes. "But you don't intend to give him up, do you?" "Look at me!" I said, in imperious tones. "Do I look like one who would give him up, because of family objections?" "How brave you are!" she observed. "Bab, I am green with envy. When I think of the way he looked at you, and the tones of his voice when he made love to that--that creature, I am positively SHAKEN." We sat in somber silence. Then she said: "I daresay he detests the heroine, doesn't he?" "He tolerates her," I said, with a shrug. More silence. I rang for Hannah to bring some ice water. We were in my boudoir. "I saw him yesterday," said Jane, when Hannah had gone. "Jane!" "In the park. He was with the woman that plays the Adventuress. Ugly old thing." I drew a long breath of relief. For I knew that the adventuress was at least thirty and perhaps more. Besides being both wicked and cruel, and not at all feminine. Hannah brought the ice-water and then came in the most maddening way and put her hand on my forehead. "I've done nothing but bring you ice-water for two days," she said. "Your head's hot. I think you need a mustard foot bath and to go to bed." "Hannah," Jane said, in her loftiest fashion, "Miss Barbara is worried, not ill. And please close the door when you go out." Which was her way of telling Hannah to go. Hannah glared at her. "If you take my advice, Miss Jane," she said. "You'll keep away from Miss Barbara." And she went out, slamming the door. "Well!" gasped Jane. "Such impertinence. Old servant or not, she ought to have her mouth slapped." Well, I told Jane the plan and she was perfectly crazy about it. I had a headache, but she helped me into my street things, and got Sis's rose hat for me while Sis was at the telephone. Then we went out. First we telephoned Carter Brooks, and he said tomorrow morning would do, and he'd give a couple of reporters the word to hang around father's office at the mill. He said to have Adrian there at ten o'clock. "Are you sure your father will do it?" he asked. "We don't want a fliver, you know." "He's making a principal of it," I said. "When he makes a principal of a thing, he does it." "Good for father!" Carter said. "Tell him not to be to gentle. And tell your actor-friend to make a lot of fuss. The more the better. I'll see the policeman at the mill, and he'll probably take him up. But we'll get him out for the matinee. And watch the evening papers."