Part 69 (1/2)

”Of course. Isn't he an angel?”

”He is, indeed!” said Winifred, with a sigh of relief so deep that Alice stared at her in surprise and exclaimed:

”Why, do you really want him?”

Winifred bridled as proudly as she could, but Alice only gasped: ”Heavens! here comes that awful mother of mine. Don't give me away!”

And she fled from tree to tree.

There was small risk that Winifred would violate the secret left with her, and she greeted Mrs. Neff with an unprecedented smile when she swept into the arbor and found there the last person on earth she would have wished to see.

”Why, it's Winifred Mather!” was her undeniable affirmation. ”So you are in Paris!”

”Yes, dear. Did you bring dear Alice to Paris with you?”

”I was just going to ask if you had seen her.”

Winifred lied with the glibness of long training:

”No, indeed. But I'd love to. Let's look for her.”

And she took Mrs. Neff's sharp elbow in her fat hand, and led her in the wrong direction. A moment later she whirled her away from an alley of roses where Stowe Webb was blundering along in such eager search of Alice that he would have walked into her mother but for Winifred's alertness as a chauffeuse.

”She's here somewhere,” Mrs. Neff was saying as her eyes ransacked the glittering crowd. ”I s.n.a.t.c.hed her away from America to keep her from the possibility of meeting that young Webb.”

”What a very clever idea!” said Winifred, and she began to laugh so helplessly that Mrs. Neff grew suspicious. But having no clue to work on, she changed the subject:

”Persis and Willie are here, I see.”

”Are they? I telegraphed the dear girl an invitation, but I was afraid she was stuck in London.”

”She came over for the _Prix des Drags_ to-morrow.”

”How does the poor child look after--after honeymooning with Willie; Heaven help her!--and him!”

”She looks--oh, of course, she's still our dear beautiful Persis, but Willie, of course, is the same dear little dam-phool. Alice's maid, the Irish one, said Persis looked like her heart was dead in her, the creature. She had it from his man that Willie and she get along like the monkey and the parrot. But, of course, one can't listen to servants.”

”No, of course not; though G.o.d knows what we'd do for news without 'em.”

As they entered the house Mrs. Neff saw Forbes. He was in his military full dress, and he was standing alone in a reverie. He was as solitary in the crowd as if he were a statue on a battle-field gazing through eyes of bronze.

”There's our little snojer man,” said Winifred.

”So it is,” said Mrs. Neff, struggling toward him through a sort of panic of complexly moving groups. ”How is the dear boy? Paris has swept him off his feet, eh?”

”He's the melancholiest man here--the ghost of the boulevards.”

”It's too bad,” said Mrs. Neff. ”He was the man for Persis.” She reached his side, took his hand, and laughed up into his face. He came out of a dream and stared at her foggily, then answered the warm clench of her little fingers. She said:

”And what are you staring at so hard?--Mrs. Enslee?”