and Mother and Father liked her very much. There was no hesitation,
therefore, in their consent that I should visit Helen at Easter-time.
So I went.

Helen lived in New York. Their home was a Fifth-Avenue mansion with
nine servants, four automobiles, and two chauffeurs. Naturally such
a scale of living was entirely new to me, and correspondingly
fascinating. From the elaborately uniformed footman that opened the
door for me to the awesome French maid who "did" my hair, I adored
them all, and moved as in a dream of enchantment. Then came Jerry home
from a week-end's trip--and I forgot everything else.

I knew from the minute his eyes looked into mine that whatever I had
been before, I was now certainly no mere "Oh, some friend of Helen's."
I was (so his eyes said) "a deucedly pretty girl, and one well worth
cultivating." Whereupon he began at once to do the "cultivating."

And just here, perversely enough, I grew indifferent. Or was it only
feigned--not consciously, but unconsciously? Whatever it was, it did
not endure long. Nothing could have endured, under the circumstances.
Nothing ever endures--with Jerry on the other side.

In less than thirty-six hours I was caught up in the whirlwind of his
wooing, and would not have escaped it if I could.

When I went back to college he held my promise that if he could gain
the consent of Father and Mother, he might put the engagement ring on
my finger.

Back at college, alone in my own room, I drew a long breath, and began