"Oh, no--I think--that what you said--what you said--was a foolish thing to say. If I came to you with my sisters Lee and Phyllis, you wouldn't know which of the three I was, and yet--you said--you said----" "It isn't a question of words--it's a question of feeling. Do you really think I shouldn't know you from your sisters?" "I am sure of it," said Gay. "But if you weren't?" "Then I should still think that you had tried to be foolish but I shouldn't be angry." "How," said Pritchard, his eyes twinkling, "shall I convince the girl I love--that I know her by sight?" Gay laughed. The idea seemed rather comical to her. "To-night," she said, "when you have dined, walk down to the dock alone. One of us three will come to you and say: 'Too bad we didn't have better luck.' And you won't know if she's Lee or Phyllis or me." * * * * * Pritchard smoked upon the dock in the light of an arc-lamp. A vision, smiling and rosy, swept out of the darkness, and said: "Too bad we didn't have better luck!" "I beg your pardon," said Pritchard, "you're not Miss Gay, but I haven't had the pleasure of being presented to Miss Lee or Miss Phyllis." The vision chuckled and beat a swift, giggling retreat to a dark spot among the pines, where other giggles awaited her. A second vision came. "Too bad we didn't have better luck!" Pritchard smiled gravely into the vision's eyes, and said in so low a voice that only she could hear: "Bad luck? I have learned to love you with all my heart and soul." Silence. An answering whisper. "How did you know me?" "How? Because my heart says here is the only girl in all the world--see how different, how more beautiful and gentle she is than all other girls." "But I'm not Gay--I'm Phyllis." "If you are Phyllis," he whispered, "then you never were Gay." She laughed softly. "I _am_ Gay." "Why tell me? I know. Am I forgiven?" "There is nothing," she said swiftly, "to forgive," and she fled swiftly. To her sisters waiting among the pines she gave explanation. "Of course, he knew me." "How?" "Why, he said there couldn't be any doubt; he said I was so very much better-looking than any sister of mine could possibly be." Forthwith Lee pinioned Gay's arms and Phyllis pulled her ears for her. Mr. Pritchard paced the dock, offering rings of Cuban incense to the stars. * * * * * From Play House came the sounds which men make when they play cards and do not care whether they win or lose. Maud was in her office, adding a column of figures which the grocer had sent in. The triplets, linked arm in arm, joined her. Arthur came, and Eve and Mary. They agreed that they were very tired and ready for bed. "It's going to be a success, anyway," said Mary. "That seems certain." "We must have the plumber up," said Eve; "the laundry boiler has sprung a leak. Who's that in your pocket, Arthur?"