"Oh, the attractive young men I have seen in these few days in New York!" exclaimed Lissa. "Would you believe it, the first day I walked out with George Wayne and Iole, I was perfectly bewildered and enchanted to see so many delightful-looking men. And by and by Iole missed me, and George came back and found me standing entranced on the corner of Fifth Avenue; and I said, "Please don't disturb me, George, because I am only standing here to enjoy the sight of so many agreeable-looking men." But he acted so queerly about it." She ended with a little sigh. "However, I love George, of course, even if he does bore me. I wonder where they are now--the bridal pairs?" "I wonder," mused Philodice, "whether they have any children by this time?" "Not yet," explained Aphrodite. "But they'll probably have some when they return. I understand it takes a good many weeks--to----" "To find new children," nodded Chlorippe confidently. "I suppose they've hidden the cunning little things somewhere on the yacht, and it's like hunt the thimble and lots and lots of fun." And she distributed six oranges. Lissa was not so certain of that, but, discussing the idea with Cybele, and arriving at no conclusion, devoted herself to the large juicy orange with more satisfaction, conscious that the winter's outlook was bright for them all and full of the charming mystery of anticipations so glittering yet so general that she could form not even the haziest ideas of their wonderful promise. And so, sucking the sunlit pulp of their oranges, they were content to live, dream, and await fulfilment under the full favor of a Heaven which had never yet sent them aught but happiness beneath the sun. [Illustration] VI [Illustration] Neither Lethbridge nor Harrow--lately exceedingly important undergraduates at Harvard and now twin nobodies in the employment of the great Occidental Fidelity and Trust Company--neither of these young men, I say, had any particular business at the New Arts Theater that afternoon. For the play was Barnard Haw's _Attitudes_, the performance was private and intensely intellectual, the admission by invitation only, and between the acts there was supposed to be a general _causerie_ among the gifted individuals of the audience. Why Stanley West, president of the Occidental Trust, should have presented to his two young kinsmen the tickets inscribed with his own name was a problem, unless everybody else, including the elevator boys, had politely declined the offer. "That's probably the case," observed Lethbridge. "Do we go?" "Art," said Harrow, "will be on the loose among that audience. And if anybody can speak to anybody there, we'll get spoken to just as if we were sitting for company, and first we know somebody will ask us what Art really is."