Dolores hovered over the tissue wrappings with the true girl’s interest. “Oh!” she exclaimed in a voice soft as the fabric. “Oh!”--again, as Catherine lifted an evening gown on its satin-padded hanger and suspended it from the electrolier. The most stupid cynic could not have doubted the governess’ worshipful gaze, and madame, while in many respects a cynic, was far from stupid. “The lines of the manikin who wore it,” Catherine added, “didn’t compare with yours.” And what had her “lines” to do with such a gown? Dolores looked the question. “You are built for _décolleté_, my dear. The Marquis d’Elie remarked it only yesterday, after you’d sailed so gracefully from my rooms. Oh, you needn’t scorn a compliment from him! He’s a bit shy on discretion according to American standards, but he has studied women as a fine art. What he said about your possibilities made me remember this model. Of course I shouldn’t have considered it for myself.” “The dress, Mrs. Cabot, is for----” “For you, silly. You can see at a glance that my coloring kills it.” Catherine reassured herself of the fact in the mirror. “With your duo-tones--ebony hair and alabaster hide---- The dress is a little token of appreciation from Papa-John and Mamma-me over your success with our son. It is just a fine _Angèle_ feather for our household angel.” “_Dear_ Mrs. Cabot!” Dolores’ exclamation was the more emotional for the doubts which she had felt over her benefactress’ sincerity toward herself. Lest she reveal by word or look the self-recriminations that filled her mind, she returned to the gift; touched its lax, silken folds; pressed to one cheek a wisp of its subtly tinted tulle. “My first evening dress,” she murmured with a fervor which showed that admiration was fast deepening into possessive love. “Even though I haven’t any present need of it----” “But you have. You’ll need it to-night.” Catherine spoke positively. “Mr. Cabot has telephoned Bradish that an old friend of the family is to dine with us and I want you to make a fourth at table. Rufus Holt is a university pal of John’s and said to be the ablest divorce lawyer in New York. He never loses a case, perhaps because he can’t be bribed to take the side of the person in the wrong. What’s more, my dear, he’s a bachelor.” “I’d enjoy meeting him, I’m sure, and you’re very kind to ask me down, but you see----” “No, I don’t.” Catherine subtracted the half of her attention from the mirror and gave the whole to Dolores. “I don’t see--and won’t--any reason in the world why you shouldn’t be more a member of this family. We are all very fond of you and we know that you are superior to the position you occupy. Life has been against you, that’s all. But I am for you. Haven’t you realized that fact yet?” “I do appreciate your kindness--all the kindness which has been shown me in your house, Mrs. Cabot.”