Evelyn could not answer, for the lady in pink had leant back and tapped her with her fan. "It doesn't look as if Jim were coming, my dear." Evelyn laughed, in a peculiar way. "Oh, I guess he'll turn up all right." There had been some question of a person of this name at dinner; but Laura had paid no great heed to what was said. Now, she sat up sharply, for Evelyn exclaimed: "There he is!" It was a man, a real man--not a boy--with a drooping, fair moustache, a single eyeglass in one eye, and a camellia-bud in his buttonhole. For the space of a breathless second Laura connected him with the pink satin; then he dropped into a vacant seat at Evelyn's side. From this moment on, Laura's pleasure in her expensive seat, in the pretty blue theatre and its movable roof, in the gay trickeries of the MIKADO, slowly fizzled out. Evelyn had no more thought for her. Now and then, it is true, she would turn in her affectionate way and ask Laura if she were all right just as one satisfies oneself that a little child is happy--but her real attention was for the man at her side. In the intervals, the two kept up a perpetual buzz of chat, broken only by Evelyn's low laughs. Laura sat neglected, sat stiff and cold with disappointment, a great bitterness welling up within her. Before the performance had dragged to an end, she would have liked to put her head down and cry. "Tired?" queried Evelyn noticing her pinched look, as they drove home in the wagonette. But the mother was there, too, so Laura said no. Directly, however, the bedroom door shut behind them, she fell into a tantrum, a fit of sullen rage, which she accentuated till Evelyn could not but notice it. "What's the matter with you? Didn't you enjoy yourself?" "No, I hated it," returned Laura passionately. Evelyn laughed a little at this, but with an air of humorous dismay. "I must take care, then, not to ask you out again." "I wouldn't go. Not for anything!" "What on earth's the matter with you?" "Nothing's the matter." "Well, if that's all, make haste and get into bed. You're overtired." "Go to bed yourself!" "I am, as fast as I can. I can hardly keep my eyes open;" and Evelyn yawned heartily. When Laura saw that she meant it, she burst out: "You're nothing but a story-teller--that's what you are! You said you didn't like them ... that they were mostly fools ... and then ... then, to go on as you did to-night." Her voice was shaky with tears. "Oh, that's it, is it? Come now, get to bed. We'll talk about it in the morning." "I never want to speak to you again." "You're a silly child. But I'm really too sleepy to quarrel with you to-night." "I hate you--hate you!" "I shall survive it." She turned out the light as she spoke, settled herself on her pillow, and composedly went to sleep.