The two connecting rooms were full of people, and the air was heavy.

Through the haze she saw Graham, and nodded to him, but with a little

sinking of the heart. She was aware, however, that he was looking at her

with a curious intentness and a certain expectancy. Maybe he only hoped

she would let him dance with Toots.

"No, thanks," she said. "Sorry."

"Why not, Delight? Just a hand, anyhow."

"Three good reasons: I don't play cards on Sunday; I don't ever play for

money; and I'm stifling for breath already in this air."

She was, indeed, a little breathless.

There was, had she only seen it, relief in Graham's face. She did not

belong there, he felt. Delight was--well, she was different. He had

not been thinking of her before she came in; he forgot her promptly the

moment she went out. But she had given him, for an instant, a breath

of the fresh out-doors, and quietness and--perhaps something clean and

fine.

There was an insistent clamor that she stay, and Tommy Hale even got

down on his knees and made a quite impassioned appeal. But Delight's

chin was very high, although she smiled.

"You are all very nice," she said. "But I'm sure I'd bore you in a

minute, and I'm certain you'd bore me. Besides, I think you're quite

likely to be raided."

Which met with great applause.

But there was nothing of Delight of the high head when she got out of

her car and crept up the rectory steps. How could she even have cared?

How could she? That was his life, those were the people he chose to play

with. She had a sense of loss, rather than injury.

The rector, tapping at her door a little later, received the answer to

his note through a very narrow crack, and went away feeling that the way

of the wicked is indeed hard.

Clayton had been watching with growing concern Graham's intimacy

with the gay crowd that revolved around Marion Hayden. It was more

thoughtless than vicious; more pleasure-seeking than wicked; but its

influence was bad, and he knew it.

But he was very busy. At night he was too tired to confront the

inevitable wrangle with Natalie that any protest about Graham always

evoked, and he was anxious not to disturb the new rapprochement with the

boy by direct criticism.

The middle of December, which found the construction work at the new

plant well advanced, saw the social season definitely on, also, and he

found himself night after night going to dinners and then on to balls.

There were fewer private dances than in previous Winters, but society

had taken up various war activities and made them fashionable. The

result was great charity balls.




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