Nancy put her hand on his arm. “Oh, dear, darling Ned,” she said. “Get in and drive home with me and tell me all about it. I knew he really never cared for Christine. She dazzled and distressed him in about equal proportions. And yet I doubt if Miss--Whatever-Her-Name-Was--will be very exciting--” “It is not Miss Lane, who, by the way, I like and admire very much,” said Ned, firmly. “Who is it? Some one I know?” “Yes, you know her.” Something in his extreme solemnity transferred the idea to her. “You don’t mean that Christine--” He nodded. “I was at their wedding yesterday.” “And where are they?” “That’s it, Nancy. They’re living in a flat and they have no servant--” His sister leaned back and laughed heartily, and then composing her countenance with an effort, she said: “My poor dear! But it’s really all for the best. She won’t stay with him six months.” “Nancy! She’ll stay with him forever.” “Where is this flat?” “I’ve promised not to tell. They don’t want to be bothered by all of us.” “They want to conceal their deplorable situation, of course. Well, my dear, I can wait. Six months from now I’ll ask them to dine to meet Linburne. Christine’s dresses will be a little out of fashion, and they’ll come in a trolley car, and she’ll have a veil over her head--” “Six months from now Riatt may be on the way to making a nice little sum. He has a very good thing, he thinks.” “He’d better be quick about it. A flat in summer! Oh, the cinders on the window-sill, and the sun on the roof, and the knowledge that all of us are going out of town to lawns and lakes--He’d better be quick, Ned.” The motor had stopped before the door of Nancy’s little house which was arrayed in its summer dress of red and white awnings, and red and white window boxes. The footman had rung the bell, and was waiting with his eye on the front door, so as to catch the right second for opening the door of the motor. “Nancy,” said her brother, with real horror in his tone, “you talk as if you wanted her to fail.” “I do. I do, of course.” “Why? Do you hate her?” Nancy nodded. “Yes, I hate her now. I didn’t used to.” “It seems to me this is just the moment to admire her. It may be foolish, but surely what she has done is noble, Nancy.” The hall door opened and simultaneously the door of the motor, and Nancy, putting out one foot, said over her shoulder: “Oh, Ned, what a goose you are! Don’t you know any woman would have done what she’s done, if she had the chance--the real chance?” She ran up the steps and into her house, leaving her brother staring after her in amazement. THE END