"Is it really misery with you?" and Ariadne's sympathy was so evidently profound, that Cassie Weldon and I walked away. "I'll give Ariad her innings," said the vivacious Miss Weldon, "and I'll make up to the Somers kid later. Where'd Vicky pick him up?" "She doesn't know him at all. Norman Steele brought him unbeknownst." "No! Why, Vick doesn't allow that sort of thing." "So I'm told. Any way, Steele did it." "Well, Vicky's such a good-natured darling, maybe she won't mind for once. She won't, if she likes the little stranger. He's well-meaning, at any rate." "So's Ariadne. From her smile, I think she well means to sell him her latest 'Autumn In The Adirondacks,' or 'Lady With A Handbag'." "Now, don't be mean!" but Cassie laughed. "And I don't blame her if she does. Poor Ad paints above the heads of the public, so if this is a high-up Publican, she'd better make sales while the sun shines." "What's her work like?" "You can see more of it in this house than anywhere else. Vicky is so fond of Ariadne and so sorry her pictures don't sell better, that she buys a lot herself." "Does Miss Gale know Miss Van Allen does it out of--" "Don't say charity! No, they're really good stuff, and Vicky buys 'em for Christmas gifts and bridge prizes." "Does she ever play for prizes? I thought she liked a bit of a stake, now." "Yes, at evening parties. But, often we have a dove game of an afternoon, with prizes and pink tea. Vicky Van isn't a gay doll, you know. She's--sometimes, she's positively domestic. I wish she had a nice husband and some little kiddies." "Why hasn't she?" "Give it up. She's never seen any man she loved, I s'pose." "Perhaps she'll love this Somers person." "Heaven forbid! Nothing less than a crown prince would suit Vicky Van. Look, she's turning to meet him. Won't he be bowled over!" I turned, and though there were several people between us, I caught a glimpse of Somers' face as he was presented to Miss Van Allen. He was bowled over. His eyes beamed with admiration and he bowed low as he raised to his lips the dainty, bejeweled hand. Vicky, apparently, did not welcome this old-time greeting, and she drew away her hand, saying, "not allowed. Naughty man! Express proper compunction, or you can't sit next me at supper!" "Forgive me," begged Somers. "I'm sorry! I'll never do it again--until after I sit next you at supper!" "More brains than I thought," I said to Cassie, who nodded, and then Vicky Van rose from her chair. "Take my place for a moment, Mr. Somers," she said, standing before him. "I--" she dropped her eyes adorably, "I must see about the arrangement of seats at the supper table." With a merry laugh, she ran from the room, and through the long hall to the dining-room. Somers dropped into her vacant chair, and continued the Bridge game with the air of one who knows how to play.