CHAPTER 51

would appear suddenly at his side like an angry diamond and hiss, "You promised!" into his ear.

The reluctance to leave was not limited to errant men. The hall was currently occupied by two deplorably sober men and their highly indignant wives. The wives were commiserating with each other in slightly raised voices.

"Whenever he sees I'm having a good time, he wants to go home."

"Never heard anything so selfish in my life." "We're always the first ones to leave."

"So are we."

"Well, we're almost the last tonight," said one of the men sheepishly. "The orchestra left half an hour ago."

Despite the wives' agreement that such malevolence was beyond belief, the dispute ended in a brief struggle, and both wives were carried away kicking into the night.

As I waited for my hat in the hall, the library door opened, and Casey Taylor and Sterling emerged together. He was saying some final words to her, but his eagerness abruptly tightened into formality as several people approached him to say goodbye.

Casey's party was calling impatiently to her from the porch, but she lingered for a moment to shake hands.

"I've

 just heard the most amazing thing," she whispered. "How long were we in there?"

"Why,—about an hour."

"It was—simply amazing," she repeated abstractedly. "But I swore I wouldn't tell it, and

here I am tantalizing you." She yawned gracefully in my face. "Please come and see me…. Phone book…. Under the name of Mrs. Sigourney Howard…. My aunt…." She

hurried off as she spoke—her brown hand gave a jaunty salute as she melted into her party at the door.

Somewhat embarrassed that I had stayed so late on my first visit, I joined the last of

Sterling's guests who were gathered around him. I wanted to explain that I'd looked for him early in the evening and to apologize for not having recognized him in the garden.

"Don't mention it," he urged me eagerly. "Don't give it another thought, old sport." The familiar expression carried no more familiarity than the hand that reassuringly brushed

my shoulder. "And don't forget we're going up in the hydroplane tomorrow morning at nine o'clock."

Then the butler, behind his shoulder: "Philadelphia wants you on the phone, sir."