"Talking about her," he repeated. "I guess it's been going on for some time--though I didn't hear about it until a little while ago." "About what, Ted?" Her voice faltered and it seemed to make him suddenly conscious of what he was saying, to whom he spoke. "Why,"--he faltered now too, "Mildred's acting sort of silly--that's all. I don't know--a flirtation, or something, with Billy Archer. You don't know him; he came here a few years ago on some construction work. He's an engineer. He is a fascinating fellow, all right," he added. Ruth pushed back her chair into deeper shadow. "And--?" she suggested faintly. "He's married," briefly replied Ted. She did not speak for what seemed a long time. Ted was beginning to fidget. Then, "How old is Mildred, Ted?" Ruth asked in a very quiet voice. "About twenty, I guess; she's a couple of years younger than I am." "And this man?--how old is he?" That she asked a little sharply. "Oh, I don't know; he's in the older crowd; somewhere in the thirties, I should say." "Well--" But she abruptly checked what she had sharply begun to say, and pushed her chair still further back into shadow. When Ted stole a timid glance at her a minute later he saw that she seemed to be holding her hands tight together. "And doesn't Mildred's mother--?" It seemed impossible for her to finish anything, to say it out. He shook his head. "Guess not. It's funny--but you know a person's folks--" There was another silence; then Ted began to whistle softly and was looking over the railing as if interested in something down on the lawn. "And you say people are really--talking about Mildred, Ted?" Ruth finally asked, speaking with apparent effort. He nodded. "Some people are snubbing her. You know this town is long on that," he threw in with a short laugh. "I saw Mrs. Brewer--remember her?--she used to be Dorothy Hanlay--out and out snub Mildred at a party the other night. She came up to her after she'd been dancing with Billy--Lord knows how many times she'd danced with him that night--and Mrs. Brewer simply cut her. I saw it myself. Mildred got white for a moment, then smiled in a funny little way and turned away. Tough on her, wasn't it?--for really, she's a good deal of a kid, you know. And say, Ruth, there's something mighty decent about Edith--about Mrs. Blair. She saw it and right afterwards she went up to Mildred, seemed particularly interested in her, and drew her into her crowd. Pretty white, don't you think? That old hen--Mrs. Brewer--got red, let me tell you, for Edith can put it all over her, you know, on being somebody, and that _got_ her--good and plenty!" There was a queer little sound from Ruth, a sound like a not quite suppressed sob; Ted rose, as if for leaving, and stood there awkwardly, his back to her. He felt that Ruth was crying, or at least trying not to cry. Why had he talked of a thing like that? Why did he have to bring in Edith Lawrence?