expressed as much surprise as delight at seeing her. "Didn't Mr.
Cheever tell you I was coming home?" she gasped.

"We haven't seen him, ma'am. There's a telegram here for him, but
of course--"

Charity was still in a frantic mood. She wanted to escape brooding,
at all costs. She ran back to where Jim waited at the motor door.

"Got any date to-night, Jim?" she demanded. He shook his head
dolefully, and she said: "Go home, jump into your dancing-shoes,
and come back for me. I'll throw on something light and you can
take me somewhere to dance. I'll go crazy mad, insane, if you
don't. I can't endure this empty house. You don't mind my making
a convenience of you, do you, Jim?"

"I love it, Charity Coe," he groaned. He reached for her hand, but
she was fleeting up the steps. He crept into the car and went to
his home, flung off his traveling-togs, passed through a hot tub
and a cold shower into evening clothes, and hastened away.

Charity kept him waiting hardly a moment. She floated down the stairs
in a something fleetily volatile, and he said:

"You look like a dandelion puff."

"That's right, tell me some nice things," she said. She did not tell
the servant where she was going. She did not know. She hardly cared.