It was late when she reached home. Mrs. Gault was to give a dinner that evening, and as Letitia passed through the hall she caught a glimpse of her sister, in a loose creation of pink silk and lace, which swelled out behind her like a sail, hurrying round the bedecked dining-table, followed by two meek and attentive Chinamen. Knowing the indignation of Maud should she be late, she ran to her room and made her toilet with the utmost speed. She was just completing this important rite, and, seated at her dressing-table under a blaze of electric light, was selecting an aigret for her hair, when the door opened and Mrs. Gault entered. She had discarded her ebullient draperies of pink silk, and was sheathed tightly in her favorite yellow, from which the olive skin of her bared neck emerged in polished smoothness. As she came forward she had one hand full of diamond brooches, which she pinned with apparent carelessness round the edge of the low bodice. "Well, Tishy," she said, sitting down by the dressing-table, "what happened?" Letitia looked at the array of silver that covered the table. Some jewels lay scattered among it, and the aigrets from which she had been about to choose the one she should wear. She selected a black one, and turned it round, looking at it. "Nothing happened," she answered. "I saw her, and bought the jam and some plants. She raises plants, too." "Is she really so pretty?" "Yes, very--I think some people might say beautiful." Mrs. Gault's face fell. "She didn't say anything about John, I suppose?" "Of course not." "Did it seem to you that there was anything adventuressy or bad about her?" Letitia looked at her sister--a sidelong look, which made Mrs. Gault feel rather uncomfortable. "I never saw any one in my life that looked to me less so," she answered. "Dear me!" ejaculated Mrs. Gault, in a dismayed tone. "You don't say so! Tishy, for goodness' sake, look where you're putting that aigret! You look like Pocahontas, and Tod McCormick's coming to dinner." Letitia arranged the aigret at a more satisfactory angle, her large white arms, shining like marble through the transparent tissue of her sleeves, shielding her face. "Then," said Mrs. Gault, returning to the more important subject, "there really may be a chance of his marrying her." "I should think a very good one," answered Letitia, in a low voice. "Good heavens!" breathed her sister, in the undertone of utter horror, "how awful men are! What makes you think he may intend marrying her?" "Because," said Letitia, dropping her arms and turning on her sister with her mouth trembling and her breast agitated with sudden emotion, "no man who was any sort of a man could mean anything else." Maud Gault was amazed by the girl's unexpected emotion. She pushed back her chair, and staring at Letitia, said vaguely: "Why? I don't understand." "Even if he didn't care, even if he didn't love her, he'd marry her. Oh, Maud, she's so helpless and so poor!"