Contrary Mary

"No. Not now."

Above the head of the little bronze boy, level glance met level glance,

as in the moonlight the men surveyed each other.

Then Mary spoke.

"Mr. Poole, I am so sorry not to hear the rest of the--story."

"You shall hear it another time."

She hesitated, looking up at him. It was as if she wanted to speak but

could not, with Porter there to listen.

So she smiled, with eyes and lips. Just a flash, but it warmed his

heart.

Yet as she went away with Porter, and passed once more through the

broad band of the street lamp's light which made of her scarlet cloak a

flaming flower, he looked after her wistfully, and wondered if when she

had heard what he had to tell she would ever smile at him like that

again.

Delilah, fresh from a triumphal summer, was in the midst of a laughing

group on the porch.

As Mary came up, she was saying: "And we have taken a dear old home in

Georgetown. No more glare or glitter. Everything is to be subdued to

the dullness of a Japanese print--pale gray and dull blue and a splash

of black. This gown gives the keynote."

She was in gray taffeta, with a girdle of soft old blue, and a string

of black rose-beads. No color was on her cheeks--there was just the

blackness of her hair and the whiteness of her fine skin.

"It's great," Barry said, Delilah nodded. "Yes. It has taken me several years to find out some

things." She looked at Grace and smiled. "It didn't take you years,

did it?"

Grace smiled back. The two women were as far apart as the poles.

Grace represented the old Knickerbocker stock, Lilah, a later grafting.

Grace studied clothes because it pleased her to make fashions a fine

art. Delilah studied to impress. But each one saw in the other some

similarity of taste and of mood, and the smile that they exchanged was

that of comprehension.

Aunt Frances did not approve of Delilah. She said so to Grace going

home.

"My dear, they live on the West Side--in a big house on the Drive. My

calling list stops east of the Park."

Grace shrugged. "Mother," she said, "I learned one thing in

Paris--that the only people worth knowing are the interesting people,

and whether they live on the Drive or in Dakota, I don't care. And

we've an awful lot of fossils in our set."

Mrs. Clendenning shifted the argument. "I don't see why General Dick

allows Leila to be so much with Miss Jeliffe."