"She was very nice," said Mrs. Leighton. There was a softness in her voice which arrested the flippancy of the girls. "I don’t know when I have met a girl I liked so much." "Good old Adelaide Maud," cried Jean. A flush ran up Cuthbert’s pale determined face. It took some of the hardness out of it. "Did she condescend to ask for me?" he asked abruptly. "Or pretend that she knew me at all?" "She never said a word about you," said his mother; "but----" "But--what a lot there may be in a but," said Jean. "She looked most sympathetic," said Mrs. Leighton lamely. Cuthbert moved impatiently. "What silly affairs afternoon calls must be," said he. "Miss Steven--the girl you ran away with--isn’t well to-day, and they are rather anxious about her. She is very upset, but wanted to come and tell you how much she thanked you." "Oh, lor," said Cuthbert, "what a time I shall have when I’m well. I shall go abroad, I think." Elma gazed at him with superb devotion. He seemed such a man--to be careless of so much appreciation, and from the Story Books too! Cuthbert appeared very discontented. "Oh, these people!" he exclaimed; "they call and thank one as they would their gardener if he had happened to pull one of ’em out of a pond. It’s the same thing, mummy! They never intend to be really friendly, you know." Elma slipped downstairs and entered the drawing-room once more. A faint perfume (was it "Ideal" or "Sweet Pea Blossom"?) might be discerned. A Liberty cushion had been decidedly rumpled where Mrs. Leighton would be bound to place Mrs. Dudgeon. Where had Adelaide Maud, the goddess of smartness and good breeding, located herself? Elma gave a small scream of rapture. On the bend of the couch, where the upholstering ran into a convenient groove for hiding things, she found a little handkerchief. It was of very delicate cambric, finely embroidered. Elma’s first terror, that it might be Mrs. Dudgeon’s, was dispelled by the magic letters of "Helen" sewn in heliotrope across a corner. It struck her as doubtful taste in one so complete as Adelaide Maud that she should carry heliotrope embroidery along with a blue gown. She held her prize in front of her. "Now," said she deliberately, "I shall find out whether it is ’Ideal’ or ’Sweet Pea.’" She sniffed at the handkerchief in an awe-stricken manner. The enervating news was thus conveyed to her--Adelaide Maud put no scent on her handkerchiefs. This was disappointing, but a hint in smartness not to be disobeyed. Mrs. Dudgeon must have been the "Ideal" person. Elma rather hoped that Hermione used scent. This would provide a loophole for herself anyhow. But Mabel would be obliged to deny herself that luxury.