The whole room caught its breath at once; and here and there one heard a little squeak of hysteria, cut short by some one who was not sure whether it was a joke or a scandal. “Why--Sylvia!” stammered Mrs. Witherspoon, completely staggered. Then Sylvia perceived that she was mistress of the scene. There came the old rapture of conquest, that made her social genius. “We have so much that we want to talk about,” she said, in her most winning voice. “Let Dolly and Emma take our places, and we will sit on the sofa in the other room and chat. You and Mrs. Armistead come and chaperone us. Won’t you do that, please?” “Why--why----” gasped the bewildered lady. “I’m sure that you will both be interested to hear what we have to say to each other; and you can tell everybody about it afterwards--and that will be so much better than having the card-game delayed any more.” And with this side-swipe Sylvia arose. She stood and waited, to make sure that her ex-fiancé was not too paralysed to follow. She led him out through the tangle of card-tables; and in the door-way she stopped and waited for Mrs. Armistead and Mrs. Witherspoon, and literally forced these two ladies to come with her out of the room. 23. Do you care to hear the details of the punishment which Sylvia administered to the two conspirators? She took them to the sofa, and made Frank draw up chairs for them, and when she had got comfortably seated, she proceeded to talk to Frank just as gently and sincerely and touchingly as she would have talked if there had been nobody present. She asked about all that had befallen him, and when she discovered that he was still not able to chat, she told him about herself, about her baby, who was beautiful and dear, even if she was blind, and about all the interesting things she had seen in Europe. When presently the old ladies showed signs of growing restless, she put hand cuffs on them and chained them to their chairs. “You see,” she said, “it would never do for Mr. Shirley and myself to talk without a chaperon. You got me into this situation, you know, and papa and mamma would never forgive you.” “You are mistaken, Sylvia!” cried Mrs. Witherspoon. “Mr. Shirley so seldom goes out, and he had said he didn’t think he would come!” “I am willing to accept that explanation,” said Sylvia, politely, “but you must help me out now that the embarrassing accident has happened.” Nor did it avail Mrs. Witherspoon to plead her guests and their score. “You may be sure they don’t care about the score,” said Sylvia. “They’d much prefer you stayed here, so that you can tell them how Frank and I behaved.” And then, while Mrs. Witherspoon was getting herself together, Sylvia turned upon the other conspirator. “We will now hold one of my eugenics classes,” she said, and added, to Frank, “Mrs. Armistead told me that you wanted to join my class.” “I don’t understand,” replied Frank, at a loss.