"Is he married, Grace?" Fifteen pairs of eyes pasted themselves on Gracie's. She barely caught herself on the verge of confessing ignorance. She was dazed by the new aspect of her own love-affair. These girls envied her! "No!" she said, recklessly. "It's her father," prompted a slim young Sherlock Holmes. "No; Mrs. Goodchild!" corrected a greater genius. "Maybe it's Grace herself," suggested the envious Milly Walton. "How can I stop it?" asked Grace, angrily. "_What?_" shrieked all. "Why, girls," said Miss Van Schaick, "she isn't responsible for it, after all!" Before the disappointment could spoil their pleasure one of them said, impatiently, "Oh, let's look at 'em!" They rushed to the window. "Let's go downstairs. We can see 'em better!" And Grace's friends thereupon rushed away. One of them was considerate enough to say, "Come on, Grace!" and Grace followed, not quite grasping the change in the situation. Her fears were not so keen; her doubts keener. They nearly overturned their respective mammas in their rush to get to the windows. "Grace," said Miss Van Schaick, who had never before called her anything but "Miss--er--Goodchild," "send out and tell them to stop and face this way. I don't think I read all the sandwiches." "Yes! Yes!" "Oh, do!" "Please, Grace, tell 'em!" It sounded like election, when women shall vote. Much more melodious than to-day. The dowagers were made speechless. They had acquired that habit before their daughters. Grace capitulated to the incense. "Frederick, go out and tell them to stop and face this way," commanded Grace, with a benignant smile. "My de--" began Mrs. Goodchild, mildly. "I have lived," said Miss Van Schaick in her high-bred, level voice that people admiringly called insulting, "to see a New York society man do something really original. I must ask Beekman Rutgers why his branch of the family did not inherit brains with the real estate." Mrs. Goodchild gasped--and began to look resigned. From there to pride the jump would be slight. But hers was not a mind that readjusted itself very quickly. "Oh, look!" and the girls began to read the legends aloud. The dowagers rose, prompted by the same horrid fear. Chauffeurs were bad enough. But sandwich-men! The world moves rapidly these days. One week ago these mothers did not know sandwich-men even existed. A new peril springs up every day. They decided, being wise, not to scold their daughters. The girls shook hands with Grace with such warmth that she felt as if each had left a hateful wedding-gift in her palm. Mrs. Goodchild went up-stairs weeping or very close to it. She could not see whither it all would lead, and she was the kind that must plan everything in advance to be comfortable. By always using a memorandum calendar she cleverly managed to have something to look forward to in this life.