"The top of the afternoon to you!" declared a new arrival in Bab's
sheltered corner. "How is a man to find you if you will hide behind
curtains?" This time Bab recognized Peter Dillon, her acquaintance of the
afternoon before.

Mrs. Wilson, whose manner suggested a charming frankness and innocence,
took Peter by the arm. "Which of the three Graces do you mean to devote
yourself to this afternoon, Peter? You shall not flatter us all at once."

"I flatter?" protested Peter, in aggrieved tones. "Why truthfulness is my
strong point."

Marjorie Moore gave a jarring laugh. "Is it, Mr. Dillon?" she returned,
not too politely. "Please count me out of Mr. Dillon's flatteries. He
does not include a woman who works in them." Marjorie Moore hurried away.

"Whew-w!" ejaculated Peter. "Miss Moore does not love me, does she? I
came up only to say a few words. Miss Hamlin is keeping me busy this
afternoon. Come and have some coffee, Miss Thurston. I am sure you
look tired."

"I would rather not," Barbara protested. "I am going to run away upstairs
for a minute, if you will excuse me."

Before Barbara could make her escape from the drawing-room she saw that
Peter Dillon and Mrs. Wilson had both lost their frivolous manner and
were deep in earnest conversation.