Miss Sternberger smiled. "I'll see you later, Mrs. Blondheim; and don't forget that preparation I was tellin' you about--Sloand's Mosquito Skit. Just rub the bottle stopper over your pillow and see if it don't work." She moved away with the dignity of an emperor moth, slim and supple-hipped in a tight-wrapped gown. The Seaside Hotel lobby leaned forward in its chairs; young men moved their feet from the veranda rail and gazed after her; pleasantries fell in her pathway as roses before a queen. A splay-mouthed youth, his face and neck sunburnt to a beefy red, tugged at her gold-colored scarf as she passed. "Oh, you Myra!" he sang. "Quit your kiddin', Izzy!" she parried back. "Who was that blonde I seen you with down at the beach this mornin'?" A voluptuous brunette in a rose-pink dress and diamonds dragged her down to the arm of her rocker. "I got a trade-last for you, Myra." "For me?" "Yes." "Give it to me, Clara." "No, I said a trade--and a dandy, too!" "Who from--man?" "Yes." "Well, I got one for you, too--Leon Eckstein says he thinks you're an awfully sweet girl and will make some man a grand wife." Clara giggled and fingered the gold-fringe edging of Miss Sternberger's sleeve. She spoke slowly and stressed each word alike. "Well, there's a fellow just got here from Paris yesterday--says you sure know how to dress and that you got a swell figure." "Who said it?" "Guess." "I should know!" "That fellow over there with Bella Blondheim--the one with the smooth face and grayish hair. I hear he's a swell New York fellow in the importin' business." "How'd Bella grab him?" "She's been holdin' on to him like a crawfish all day. She won't let anybody get near him--neither will her mother." "Here comes Izzy over here after me! If there's one fellow I can't stand it's him." Miss Sternberger moved away with her chin tilted at a sharp angle. At a turn in the veranda she came suddenly upon Miss Bella Blondheim and a sleek, well-dressed young man with grayish hair. Miss Blondheim's hand was hooked with a deadlock clutch to the arm of her companion. Miss Sternberger threw herself before them like a melodrama queen flagging a train. "Hello, Bella!" she said in a voice as low as a 'cello. Miss Blondheim, who had once sold the greatest number of aprons at a charity bazar, turned cold eyes upon the intruder. "Hello, Myra!" she said in cool tones of dismissal. There was a pause; the color swept up and surged over Miss Blondheim's face. "Are you finished with _Love in a Cottage_, Bella? I promised it to Mrs. Weiss when you're finished with it." "Yes," said Bella. "I'll bring it down to-night." There was another pause; the young man with the grayish hair coughed. "Mr. Arnheim, let me introduce you to my friend, Miss Sternberger." Miss Sternberger extended a highly groomed hand. "Pleased to meet you," she said. "Howdy-do, Miss Sternberger?" His arm squirmed free from the deadlock clutch. "Won't you join us?"