“Haven’t I wasted hours and hours trying to make mother realize that very thing,” she exclaimed, “and with no success whatever! For some unaccountable reason, she has taken an aversion to Geraldine. She objects to her age—says she’s too young to be a chaperone—she calls her frivolous for permitting the girls to address her by her Christian name and all in all there isn’t a thing the poor woman does that meets with mother’s approval.” Hugh considered deeply. “I fail to see anything objectionable in what you have told me,” he said finally. “The only thing I can do is to judge for myself when I have the pleasure of meeting your perfect chaperone. In the meantime, precious, don’t you worry—your old Dad will always stand by you. Run along now, and have a good time.” He extracted a bill from his wallet, and reaching for Elinor’s mesh bag tucked it in. “Thank you so much, Dad dear, you’re so wonderful to me.” Elinor looked at him with grateful affectionate eyes. “The Thurstons are giving a dance for Nell on the 17th—mother received the invitation for it this morning—she says she is going to decline, but you must arrange to take me, and then you’ll meet Geraldine. I know you’ll agree with me and admit that she is adorable.” “Splendid—you may count upon me to act as your gallant escort to the Thurston dance,” and Hugh kissed his daughter affectionately, as they walked to the door. Late as usual, Elinor reached the Biltmore to find Nell Thurston, Rosebud Greely, and Josephine Wyeth, three of the season’s débutantes, patiently awaiting her. They were in especially fine humor and willing even to forgive Elinor since their beloved Mrs. DeLacy was chaperone. Pretty, happy, light-hearted girls were these friends of Elinor Benton’s, with but three aims in life—a good time, endeavoring to spend some of their parents’ too great wealth and to make at last “a brilliant batch.” Mrs. DeLacy, the youthful widow, was remarkable principally because of her knack of mentioning her late dear husband at the right times, deftly to manage to secure sympathy and admiration. It had been remarked, too, that this was most generously forthcoming from men. She was prepossessing—there was no denying that—and with a strange fascination that made her singularly attractive. The luncheon was a jolly little affair, the girls were permitted to indulge in as many cigarettes as they wished, and relate stories worthy of a demi-monde. It was no wonder her charges considered Mrs. DeLacy a wonderful chaperone. She placed no restraint whatsoever upon any of their actions, coincided with all their plans and arrangements, and managed to make herself thoroughly agreeable at all times. The mere fact that she was _Mrs._ DeLacy sufficed to make her a perfectly proper and legitimate chaperone in the eyes of the world.