She was lying on a sofa in her mother’s bedroom and wore a pale green negligée in delicate harmony with the pink of her cheeks, unimpaired by a cacophonous winter. As usual she was smoking. Mrs. Pleyden, who was packing her jewels for the safe-deposit vault in her bank, looked up critically. “I wish you would not smoke so much, if only for the sake of your complexion. The house in Chelsea is ready and the servants go tomorrow. I am surprised you made any engagements.” “I don’t think I’ll go,” announced Polly. “I can stay here with father. He told me yesterday he’d be delighted to have me, and if he can make himself comfortable with two servants and a caretaker I can.” Mrs. Pleyden bent over the large box with an anxious line between her brows. It was seldom she came to an issue with her daughter. “But—my dear—you would have a dull time. All the girls will have left shortly, either for Europe or the country—I dislike Europe since the war but if you’d like to go——” “I shouldn’t.” “Even before your friends left you couldn’t have parties. I don’t mean only in my absence but in that of the servants.” “I’m sick of parties. I only want to be quiet for a while. Nothing very quiet about Atlantic City.” “I am afraid, my dear, you have another reason. You want to be able to continue to see Dr. Pelham.” “Well—what if I do? He’s the only man that interests me—makes me feel as if I had brains instead of jazz in my skull.” “He’s an intellectual man, of course, and if he ever talks at all, no doubt what he says is illuminating. But aren’t you rather young for intellectual friendships? Better enjoy yourself while you _are_ young and leave those until later. Besides, how about Park Leonard? I should think he was quite as clever as Dr. Pelham and a good deal more versatile. Certainly more your own sort.” “I like him well enough but I happen to like Geoffrey Pelham better. He interests me and Park does not. Those things are not to be explained. Matter of spark, perhaps.” “Isn’t it merely because he is rather difficult? You are used to having men fall in love with you, pursue you as Leonard does.” “Maybe. What does it matter?” Mrs. Pleyden abandoned diplomacy. It had come to what Polly herself would call a show-down. “Do you intend to marry him?” she asked. “I shouldn’t be surprised.” “Have you thought what it means?” “Financially? A flat in Harlem or the Bronx or commuting to some—at present—unknown suburb? Yes, I’ve thought of it—considerably. But if Nell Croydon and Hallie Le Kay can stand it I guess I can. Besides, I always like anything for a change! And in a few years he’ll have a large income. Dr. Gaunt told me the other day that his personal practice was increasing rapidly, and of course he has his associate fees.”