"She won't enjoy that," she declared. "Poor Aunt Sarah, she's been very kind to me, Jack. She's really good-hearted." "You can't tell from the outside of a chestnut burr what kind of a nut is inside of it," retorted he; "but if you say she is sound, it goes. She's got the outside of the burr all right." The servant with a fresh course briefly interrupted, and when they had successfully dodged his platter Jack went back to the subject. "Is it proper to ask what there was in your talk that was especially unpleasant,--not meaning that she was unpleasant, of course, but only that with your readiness to take offense you might have found something out of the way." Alice smiled faintly as if the question was too closely allied to painful thoughts to allow of her being amused. "She is still angry with me," she said. "For giving her a husband? She's grateful." "No, it isn't that. She can't get over my not doing what she wanted." "You've done what she wanted too long. She's spoiled. She thinks she owns you." "Of course it's hard for her," Alice murmured. "Hard for her? It's just what she needed. What is she going to do about it I'd like to know?" Alice looked at him with a wistful gravity. "If I tell you a secret," she said in a low tone, "can I trust you?" "Of course you can," was the answer. "I should think that by this time, after May's engagement, you'd know I can keep still when I've a mind to." Jack's chuckle did not call a smile to her face now. She had evidently forgotten for the moment the need of keeping up a smiling appearance in public; her long lashes drooped over cheeks that had little color in them, and her mouth was grave. "She was very severe to-night," Alice confided to her companion. "She said--Oh, Jack, what am I to do if she goes away and leaves me without a home? She said that as of course I shouldn't want to go with her to Hungary, she didn't know what would become of me. She wanted to know if I could earn my living." "The infernal old--" began Jack; then he checked himself in time, and added: "You shall never want a home while--" but an interruption stopped him. "Jack," called Tom Harbinger from the other end of the table, "didn't the Count say: 'Stones of a feather gather no rolls'?" The society mask slipped in a flash over the faces of Alice and Jack. The latter had ready instantly a breezy laugh which might have disarmed suspicion if any of the company had seen his recent gravity. "Oh, Tom," he returned, "it wasn't so bad as that. He said: 'Birds of one feder flock to get eet.' I wish I had a short-hand report of all his sayings." "He told me at the club," put in Mrs. Harbinger, improving on the fact by the insertion of an article, "that Miss Wentstile was 'an ext'rdeenaire particle.' I hope you don't mind, Alice?" "Nothing that the Count says could affect me," was the answer.