Stephanie looked away: "Your profession must be most interesting, Miss West." "Yes." "But--exacting." "Very." Neither made any further effort. A moment later, however, Hélène d'Enver came in. She knew some of the women very slightly, none intimately; and, catching sight of Valerie, she came across the room with a quick smile of recognition: "I'm dreadfully late, dear--how do you do, Miss Swift"--to Stephanie, who had risen. And to Valerie: "Mr. Ogilvy came; just as I had my furs on--and you know how casually a man takes his leave when you're in a tearing hurry!" She laughed and took Valerie's gloved hands in her own; and Stephanie, who had been looking at the latter, came to an abrupt conclusion that amazed her; and she heard herself saying: "It has been most interesting to meet you, Miss West. I have heard of you so pleasantly that I had hoped to meet you some time. And I hope I shall again." Valerie thanked her with a self-possession which she did not entirely feel, and turned away with Hélène d'Enver. "That's the girl who is supposed to be engaged to Louis Neville," whispered the pretty countess. Valerie halted, astounded. "Didn't you know it?" asked the other, surprised. For a moment Valerie remained speechless, then the wild absurdity of it flashed over her and she laughed her relief. "No, I didn't know it," she said. "Hasn't anybody ever told you?" "No," said Valerie, smiling. "Well, perhaps it isn't so, then," said the countess naïvely. "I know very few people of that set, but I've heard it talked about--outside." "I don't believe it is so," said Valerie demurely. Her little heart was beating confidently again and she seated herself beside Hélène d'Enver in the prim circle of delegates intent upon their chairman, who was calling the meeting to order. The meeting was interesting and there were few feminine clashes--merely a smiling and deadly exchange of amenities between a fashionable woman who was an ardent advocate of suffrage, and an equally distinguished lady who was scornfully opposed to it. But the franchise had nothing at all to do with the discussion concerning the New Idea Home, which is doubtless why it was mentioned; and the meeting of delegates proceeded without further debate. After it was ended Valerie hurried away to keep an appointment with Neville at Burleson's studio, and found the big sculptor lying on the sofa, neck swathed in flannel, and an array of medicine bottles at his elbow. "Can't go to dinner with you," he said; "Rita won't have it. There's nothing the matter with me, but she made me lie down here, and I've promised to stay here until she returns." "John, you don't look very well," said Valerie, coming over and seating herself by his side. "I'm all right, except that I catch cold now and then," he insisted obstinately.