Juliet might have looked like that when her love was young. Mr. Barker arrived, but she met him diffidently, even shamefacedly. Before she could explain he launched forth: "I'm sorry, kiddo, but we'll have to make it to-morrow night for that ride of ourn. That party I was tellin' you about is goin' to get busy on that big deal, and I gotta do a lot of signin' up to-night." Fate had carved a way for her with gentle hand. "That's all right, Mr. Barker; just don't you feel badly about it." She felt a gush of sympathy for him; for all humanity. "You understand, kiddo, don't you? A feller's got to stick to business as much as pleasure, and we'll hit the high places to-morrow night, all right, all right. You're the classiest doll I've met yet." She swallowed her distaste. "That's the right idea, Mr. Barker; business appointments are always important." "I'll see you to-morrow mornin', and we'll fix up some swell party." "Good night, Mr. Barker." "So long, honey." Directly after he departed Miss Ethyl bade her good night in cold, cracky tones. "The goin's-on in this parlor don't make it no place for a minister's daughter, Miss Gertie Sprunt." "Then you ought to be glad your father's a policeman," retorted her friend, graciously. "Good night, dearie." She hummed as she put her table in order. At each footstep down the marble corridor her pulse quickened; she placed her cheeks in her hands, vise-fashion, to feel of their unnatural heat. When Mr. Chase finally came they met shyly and with certain restraint. Whispering together like diffident children, they went out, their hands lightly touching. Broadway was already alight; the cool spring air met them like tonic. Like an exuberant lad, Mr. Chase led her to the curb. A huge, mahogany-colored touring-car, caparisoned in nickel and upholstered in a darker red, vibrated and snorted alongside. A chauffeur, with a striped rug across his knees, reached back respectfully and flung open the door. Like an automaton Gertrude placed her small foot upon the step and paused, her dumfounded gaze confronting the equally stunned eyes of the chauffeur. Mr. Chase aided and encouraged at her elbow. "It's all right, dearest, it's all right; this is your surprise." "Why," she gasped, her eyes never leaving the steel-blue shaved face of the chauffeur--"why--I--" Mr. Chase regarded her in some anxiety. "What a surprised little girl you are! I shouldn't have taken you so unawares." He almost lifted her in. "This machine is yours, Mr. Chase?" "Yes, dear, this machine is _ours_." "You never told me anything." "There is little to tell, Gertrude. I have not used my cars to amount to anything since I'm back from Egypt. I've been pretty busy with affairs." "Back from Egypt!"