The Adventures of Sally

y down the long table.

be. Thefirst atmosphere of uncomfortable restraint, caused, she was only toowell aware, by her brother Fillmore's white evening waistcoa

turned once more to thegreat vital topic of S

and Sally's guests were finding a good dealof satisfaction in arranging a Budget for her. Rumour

the Wall Street brokers,always affected a brisk, incisive style of speech, as befitted a man inclose touch with the great ones of Finance. "I'd sink a couple ofhundred thousand in some

hundredand fifty before next Saturday."Elsa Doland, the pretty gi

"I'd put every cent of it on Benny Whistler for theheavyweight championship. I've private information that Battling Tukehas been got at and means to lie down in the seventh...""Say, listen," interrup

got up quickly, and flitting down the table, put her a

ly broke? If you are, you kno

and prudentelement, led by Augustus Bartlett, had definitely decided on threehundred thousand in Liberty Bonds and the rest in some safe real estate;while the smaller, more sporting section, impressed by the mild youngman's inside information, had already placed Sally's money on BennyWhistler, doling it out cautiously in small sums so

these jugglers withhalf-millions the amount mentioned seemed for the moment almost toosmall to bother about. It was the sort of sum which they had beenmentally set

the first torally from the shock, "I'd buy Amalgamated.

bserveda gloomy-looking man with spectacles, "I could have started

en of--as soon as I can get my passport; and after I'veloafed there for a few weeks, I'm coming back to look about and findsome nice cosy little business w

gave him to me. If I want to lose money, I'll go to Monte Carlo anddo it pr

.."At the far end of the table there was a stir, a cough, and the gratingof a chair on the floor; and s

arding-house's oldest inh

t some dayproduce an occasion which Mr. Faucitt would feel that he could allow topass without saying a few words; but nothing of the sort had happened asyet, and they had given up hope. Right from the start of the meal theyhad felt that it would be optimism run mad to expect the old gentlemanto abstain from speech on the night of Sally Nicholas' farewell dinnerparty; and partly because they had braced themselves to it, butprincipally because Miss Nicholas' hospitality had

rl with the tiniest handsand feet, the friendliest of smiles, and a dimple that came and went inthe curve of her rounded chin. Her eyes, which disappeared when shelaughed, which was often

ous Murphys had been guilty of nolap

thier of such a task--Brutuses comparedwith whom I, like Marc Antony, am no orator--I have been as

alance himself with one hand on an inverted ginger-ale bottle whilere

tribute with a brief nod of the head. It was a nod ofcondescension; the nod of one who, conscious of being hedged about bysocial inferiors, nevertheless does his best to be not unkindly. AndSally, seeing it, debated in her mind for an instant the advisability ofthrowing an orange at her brother. There was one lying ready to herhand, and his gliste

ed;and though she loved him, she could not disguise from herself that, eversince affluence had descended upon him some months ago, her broth

e than stand-offish monarch. It had taken Sallyover an hour to persuade him to leave his apartment on Riverside Driveand revisit the boarding-house for this specia

hose present had known Fillmore Nicholas as animpecunious young man who could make a tweed suit last longer than onewould have believed possible; they had

girl. To-night we have beenprivileged to witness the American girl in the capacity of hostess, andI think I am right in saying, in asseverating, in committing myself tothe statement that his has been a night which none of us present herewill ever forget. Miss Nicholas has given us, ladies and gentlemen, abanquet. I repeat, a banquet. There has been alcoholic refreshment. I donot know where it

"... But why,"he demanded abruptly, "do I call her Miss Ni

ed the tone of the boarding-house; but particularly because the onewho had just spoken had, on his first evening in the place, addressedhim as "grandpa.""Yes, sir," he said severely, "it is her name. But she has

sonalities, "may not be familiar to a couple of dudacrobats who have only been in the place

m our midst. From our midst, ladies andgentlemen, but not from our hearts. And I think I may venture to hope,to prognosticate, that, whatever lofty sphere she may adorn in thefuture, to whatever heights in the social world she may soar, she willstill continue to hold a corner in her own golden heart for the comradesof her Bohemian days. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you our

ly shouldproceed from someone. She knew Mr. Faucitt so well. He looked on theseoccasions rather in the light of scenes from some play; and, sustaininghis own part in them with such polished grace, was

cloth and the thumb of theother in his pocket, glanced down the table with eyes so haughtilydrooping that Sally'

ore Nicholas had notworn well. At the age of seven he had been an extraordinarily beautifulchild, but after that he

and hard work had kept his figure in check; but with money therehad come

e a good speech. She could see Mr. Faucitt leaning back in his chair,all co

lmore

want a speech... Very good ofyou to dr

mething so menacing, so easyand practised, in Fillmore's attitude as he had stood there that thegloomier-minded had given him at least twenty minutes, and even theoptimists had reckoned th

er him. He wasfeeling the sick shock which comes to those who tread on a non-existentlast stair. And Sally, catching sight of his face, uttered a sharpwordless exclamation as if she had seen

othed another wrinkle out of his waistcoat, "has not saidquite--quite all I hoped he was going to say. I can't make a speech,but..." Sally

ic couldnot have claimed that Sally had been eloquent: neverthel

d telling her brother Fi

lmore, who hadfurtively collected his hat and overcoat, had stolen forth into thenight, had been overtaken and brought to bay by

this, for it hurt hisself-esteem, but he did not see how the fact could be altered. Sally hadalways been like that. Even the uncle, who after the deaths of theirparents had become their guardian, had never, though a grim man, beenable to cope successfu

chof her patrons in the first week of their stay. A sweet-tempered girl

kept on expanding till hehad reached the normal

ne?" demanded Fil

realize that all that sort ofthing, all that boarding-house stuff, is a thing of the past. One's gotbeyond it. One wants to drop it. One wants

from discussing the p

, is about all this sort ofthing"--he indicated the lighted front of Mrs. Meecher's home-from-homewith a wide gesture--"is that it's over. Finished and done with. Thesepeople were

's neck for ever. One can't prevent people forming anI-knew-him-when club, but, darn it, one needn't attend the meetings.""One's friends...""Oh, friends," said Fillmore. "That's just where all this makes me sotired. One's in a position where all these people are entitled to callthemselves one's fri

ore was

't believe in

ll right if you had o

ualities in swift revie

e? All present and correct. Hewondered

believed in his ability tillhe had proved it so masterfully that it no longer required theassistance of faith. Still, it was trying; and there was not muchcon

on the days when visitors areallowed... Oh, hullo."The last remark was addressed to a young man who had been

ven as you and I. Mrs. Meecher looks on him as a son."The two men shook hands. Fillmore was not short, but Gerald Foster withhis lean, well-built figure seemed to tower over him. He was anEnglishman, a man in the middle twenties, clean-shaven, keen-eyed, andvery good t

ou get into the knack of recognizi

took advantage of the coming of this new arrival toremove himself. He had not enjoyed his chat with Sally, and it seemedprobable that he would enjoy a cont

uld think of a whole lot more good things which it wouldhave been agreeable to say to him. And it had become obvious to her thatFillmore was not gettin

ell me all about everything."It was exactly two months since Sally had become enga

ndexcuses for a disposition on his part towards homicide or arson, putthem down to artistic sensitiveness. There is nobody so sensitive asyour artist, particularly if he be unsuccessful: and when an artist hasso little success that he cannot afford to make a home for the woman heloves, his sensitiveness presumably becomes great indeed. Puttingherself in his place, Sally could see that a protracted engagement,kn

spoilthings by coming looking like an advertisement of What The Smart MenWill Wear This Season. You didn't see his waistcoat just now. He hadcovered it up. Conscience, I suppose. It was white and bulgy andgl

d ...oh, it was allvery festive. It only needed you.""I w

ticipation forweeks. She had always known that sooner or later this would happen. Shehad read his plays over and over again, and was convinced that they werewonderful. Of course, hers w

iderthat nowadays there was no such thing, believed that she was a gir

ndKohn have changed their minds after all and want it? I knew they wo

hope there, I'm afraid. Isaw Goble this morning

o be put on is 'The Prim

it.""Of course! The one Elsa liked

""He was at Harvard with Fillmore. I never saw him, but he must berather a painful person.""Oh, he's all right. Not much brains, of course, but--well, he's allright. And, anyway, he wants to put the play on.""Well, that's splendid," said Sally: but she could not get the rightring of enthusiasm into her voice. She had had ideals for Gerald. Sh

would be please

am," sa

a production? Amanager was simply a piece of machinery for paying the bills; and if hehad money for that purpose, why demand asceticism and the finersensibilities from him? The real thing

she asked. "You must h

rrassment. Gerald appeared unable to begin a sentence to-nightwithout feeling his way into it like a man creeping cautiously down adark alley. She noticed it the more because it was so different fro

nt for a moment, and beg

filtered eventually into theboarding-house, chiefly through the medium of that seasoned sport, themild young man who thought so highly of the redoubtable Benny Whistler,and she was aware that the name of Reginald Cracknell, which was alwaysget

cknell..." He was finding Sally's bright, horrified gaze somewhattr

in heads asto make him entrust a part like Ruth in "The Primrose Way" to one who,when desired by the producer of her last revue to carry a bowl of rosesacross the stage and place it on a t

ry!" she s

f the boarding-house. Somehow Gerald's arm had managed to getitself detached from S

orth it?" she bur

the young man into something

e it's worth it. It's

esides,she has a personality and a following, and Cracknell will spend all themoney in the world to make the thing a success. And it will be a start,whatever happens. Of course, it's worth it."Fillmore would have been impressed by this speech. He would haverecognized and respected in it the unmistakable ring which characterizeseven the lightest utterances of tho

ght. Of course you are. I can see it now. I was only a little startledat first. Everything's going to be wonderful. Let's get all our chick

llar?""It pays for a marriage-licenc

she said. "Look at this ma