of engagements."

She sighed at the memory of the Barlows' superior advantages and the sigh
sounded like a groan of reproach in Lorry's ears. Innocently,
unconsciously, unaccusingly, Chrystie was rubbing in the failure of her
stewardship. She combed at the ends of her hair, her eyes blind to its
burnished brightness.

"Would you like to have a party here?" she said in a solemn voice.

Chrystie's glance was diverted from the cornice, wide open and
astonished.

"A party here, in _this_ house?"

"Yes, it's big enough. There's plenty of room and we can afford it."

"But, Lorry"--the proposition was so startling that she could hardly
believe it--"a _real_ party?"

"Any kind of a party you want. We might have several. We could begin with
a dinner; Fong can cook anything."

Chrystie, the idea accepted and held in dazzled contemplation, suddenly
saw a flaw.

"But where would we get any men?"

"We know some and we could find some more."