May Rossiter shrugged. "You don't suppose it lasts, you funny innocent? Besides, though he did cost me a few illusions and some suffering and a reputation (what's a reputation among friends?), I owe Ned Desmond one very good turn. Jim Rossiter's the best husband of my acquaintance." She leaned over swiftly and kissed Joan on the cheek. "So you see you're not the only silly little simpleton who learns her ropes by tripping on them. Makes you feel better, doesn't it? Of course! That's why I told you.... Look here, what's the use of wasting all this perfectly good candy? Jane's floors are above suspicion. Let's pick it up and take it downstairs and make a Roman holiday, shall we?" Between them, with some laughter and a very real sense of comradeship, they restored Eduard's peace-offering to its basket. Then Joan remembered her bracelet. "What shall I do with it?" she asked, aghast. "If I return it now, it will look--offended, as if I had taken him seriously!" "Which would never do," Mrs. Rossiter was quick to agree. She examined the bracelet with interest. "Sapphires, emeralds, nice little diamonds--dear, dear! And a Chartier setting. Ned must have had it rather badly. He never gave _me_ anything so compromising! Keep it, of course," she advised cynically. "It's a nice bit of jewelry, and you may as well have something decent for a souvenir." But Joan's hardihood was not equal to that. "Well, then"--the other's eye sparkled with sudden malice--"why not give it to me for a parting present! Splendid! Fancy his expression when he recognizes his _gage d'amour_ glittering on my wrist, of all wrists in the world! And, believe me, he shall recognize it--What ho! Votes for Women!" She laughed until she cried. * * * * * When Joan said good-by to Longmeadow some days later--not so soon as to give her departure the appearance of flight--she left trailing clouds of glory. The rumor had got about, thanks perhaps to Mrs. Rossiter, that the redoubtable Eduard had met his Waterloo at the hands of the Kentucky girl, which seemed not to detract from her popularity among Eduard's friends, male or female. She became quite legendary in the countryside. Betty, fully restored to her earlier allegiance, parted from her with tears, and Mrs. Desmond made her promise to visit them soon again. But it was a promise Joan knew she would not have the courage to keep. And when she had waved her last gay farewell, and thrown her last kiss impartially out of the window to the group who had come into town to see her off, she settled back in the train which had brought her with such high hopes to her first failure, and said aloud, "Thank goodness that's over!" "Pardon _me_--did you speak?" murmured a young man in the seat in front of her, turning round with a start; a wide-eared young man whom Joan recognized. "Goodness!" she said in some dismay. "You seem to dog my footsteps, Mr. Blair. There's no escaping you!"