“They miss you and they don’t get along as fast as they should with so many strange people taking care of them. Can’t you come back, Ellen? I’d like you to come back as housekeeper--take general charge. Couldn’t you do that?” “You mustn’t think I was the least bit dissatisfied, Mrs. Harrison. I liked working for you. It was true every word I said. You see Mrs. Horton don’t want a nurse. She’s terrible fussy just now.” “Is she very ill?” “She’s going to die, I’m afraid. It’s going awfully fast. We’ve been sort of letting up on the operation question because the doctors don’t hold out much hope for her anyhow. Of course she don’t know how bad she is.” “Does her daughter know?” “Yes, Fliss knows.” “Poor thing.” “I would like to come back to you, Mrs. Harrison. I’ve been thinking that if that Mrs. Ellis comes I could. I’d really have to, since they haven’t room for more than one of us. And this Mrs. Ellis is closer to Carrie than I am myself; she knew her when she was a bride. I tell you what I’ll do. I’ll find out and let you know on Sunday. Is that all right with you?” “Yes, indeed. I don’t want you to leave your poor cousin, but if this other friend of hers is coming and you aren’t really needed----” “I know. We’ll try to do the best by all,” answered Ellen, following the line of thought of John Stuart Mill instinctively. They shook hands gravely. Cecily went away with a sense of outrage and justification. So that was Fliss! * * * * * There was a small dinner at the Garden House Club, for Mrs. Walter Warner, the next week. Della was taking rather well on the whole. Mrs. Longstreet, who liked to “bring out” young people, was the hostess. The Walter Warners, the Richard Harrisons, the Matthew Allenbys, the Frederick Craigs, Madeline Ensign and her husband, Gordon Ames, the boy who had so vainly pursued Fliss and who, with college back of him and a start in his profession, was no longer a boy but a much sought after man, Helen Jefferson, because every one hoped that Gordon would marry her, and a half-dozen other couples--all young, all extremely well acquainted with each other. Della was quite at her best. With nothing to do except be nominal mistress of her mother-in-law’s home and plenty of service at her disposal, Della was keeping in excellent form. It was easy to see to-night why Walter had fallen so very much in love with her. Her pale yellow hair was like a mist around her head and the green of her gown was either a stroke of luck or a stroke of genius, thought Cecily. She looked curiously at Fliss in the light of the revelations of her call on her mother the day before. Fliss evidently did not know about that yet or if she did she made no reference. She greeted Cecily casually and turned back to the glass. “Just below your cheek-bones, my dear. Most people put it on too high up. It gives much more the look of youth, not that you need that, but you know.”