Alice Endicott and Jack Neligage were naturally asked to many of these dinners, and so it came about that they saw a good deal of each other during the next few weeks. Their recent disagreement at first bred a faint coolness between them, but Jack was too good-natured long to keep up even the pretense of malice, and Alice too forgiving to cherish anger. The need, too, of hiding from the public all unpleasantness would in any case have made it necessary for them to behave as usual, and it is one of the virtues of social conventions that the need of being outwardly civil is apt to blunt the edge of secret resentments. Of course a healthy and genuine hate may be nourished by the irksomeness of enforced suavity, but trifling pique dies a natural death under outward politeness. Alice and Jack were not only soon as friendly as ever, but either from the reaction following their slight misunderstanding or from the effect of the sentimental atmosphere which always surrounds an engaged couple, their attitude became more confidential and friendly than ever. They sat side by side at a dinner in which the Harbingers were officially testifying their satisfaction in the newly announced engagement. Jack had been doing his duty to the lady on the other side, and turned his face to Alice. "What is worrying you?" he asked, his voice a little lowered. She looked at him with a smile. "What do you mean by that?" she asked. "I was flattering myself that I'd been particularly frolicsome all the evening." "You have; that's just it." "What do you mean by that?" "I mean that you've had to try." "You must have watched me pretty closely," she remarked, flushing a little, and lowering her glance. "Oh, I know you so well that I don't need to; but to be sure I have kept my eyes on you." She played with her fork as if thinking, while his look was fixed on her face. "I didn't think I was so transparent," she said. "Do you suppose other people noticed me?" "Oh, no," he responded. "You don't give me credit for my keenness of perception. But what's the row?" "Nothing," was her answer, "only--Well, the truth is that I've had a talk with Aunt Sarah that wasn't very pleasant. Jack, I believe she's going to marry the Count." "I'm glad of it," was his laughing response. "He'll make her pay for all the nasty things she has done. He'll be a sort of public avenger." Alice became graver. She shook her head, smiling, but with evident disapproval. "You promised me long ago that you wouldn't say things against Aunt Sarah." "No, I never did," he declared impenitently. "I only said that I'd try not to say things to you about her that would hurt your feelings." "Well, weren't you saying them then?" "That depends entirely upon your feelings; but if they are so sensitive, I'll say I am delighted that the 'venerated Mees Wentsteele,' as the Count calls her, is at last to be benefited by the discipline of having a master." Alice laughed in spite of herself.