The words and the connotation had their lure. Champagne--she had heard of it as the beverage of the rich; and eight dollars for one bottle--the price of two winter dresses! "Come on," smiled Mrs. Légère. The girl still hesitated. "Here's to the wedding!" prompted the hostess, and drank the entire contents of her glass. Mary took a mouthful and swallowed it. At first she nearly choked. Then the fiery liquid brought fresh tears to her blue eyes, still smarting from the gas that had, a moment before, assailed them. But finally, there began to spread through her weary body a grateful glow, and, half in apology for what she feared had been a clownish exhibition, she looked up with red lips pleasantly parted. "Now, wasn't I right?" inquired Mrs. Légère. "Don't you feel better already?" "I--I believe I do, thank you," Mary admitted. "Anyhow, it is pretty good, I guess--when you get used to it." She took, bravely and with an ease now gained by experience, a second drink, and, as she held the glass before her, Max gallantly replenished it. A bell rang and the glum, ebony maid passed through the room, closing both doors behind her. Mary, alarmed at this nocturnal interruption, started a little, but neither of her companions seemed to regard the incident as unusual. "You look much better," Mrs. Légère asseverated. "Finish that glass, dearie, and you'll be all to the good again." "Do you think I'd better take so much?" Both Max and Mrs. Légère laughed unaffectedly. "Vhy, there ain't enough here to hurt a baby," declared the former. Mary accepted the assurance. She did not like the taste of the champagne, but she knew now that she had been very tired, and the wine sent fresh life and energy through her sleepy limbs. She emptied the glass and felt, joyfully, all her fears and regrets slipping for her. Doubt and difficulty were resolved into a shimmering mist, were overcome, were forgotten. The black maid thrust her head in at the hall-doorway. Mrs. Légère rose. "Excuse me," she said, leaving the room. "I'll be right back." Max, the instant she was gone, rose in his turn. "I'm going to fool her," he said. "I'm going to graft her drink!" He took the glass that his hostess had placed upon the table, poured more of the wine into it, replenished the glass of his now unresisting companion and sat down by her side, his arm stretched behind her. Mary, with refreshed courage, broke the silence. She was feeling like a naughty child triumphantly successful in her naughtiness. "Do you know, Max," she said, "I gave a jump when that bell rang? I thought for a minute they might be after us." "Nix on that," chuckled Max. "They couldn't catch us if they tried. Here's to the runavays!" They clinked glasses and drank. "I guess," the young man pursued, "it was chust von of Rosie's boarders." "Her boarders? Does she run a boarding-house?" There was a note of dignified scorn in Mary's climbing voice. "Sure she keeps boarders."