The guests for this particular dinner-party were all chosen with Roger in view. The gown Cicely was to wear at this particular dinner-party (the fitting for which had delayed her to-day) was also chosen with Roger in view. Already she was planning on the food, and flowers, and wines, with Roger in view. She felt absurdly young and light-hearted. She kissed Sheilah tenderly. She had brought her flowers—rich, red, shaggy chrysanthemums.
'Smelling of football games,' laughed Sheilah, as she took them, and ran to put them in a high vase, thinking, 'They'll make the room prettier for Roger, if I decide to stay and see him.'
'How much nicer you look here!' Cicely exclaimed, glancing around the apartment. 'And how well you're looking. And so pretty! Are you really better? I don't need to ask. I see it in your eyes. You seem to be just glowing. You're happier, aren't you, Sheilah?'
'Oh, yes. Much. Especially this afternoon—somehow. Seeing you, and everything. I'm very happy. And oh—ever so much better. I've so much to tell you!'
'Well, tell me. I can stay a little while.' She glanced at her wrist. ('Not too long,' Sheilah hoped.) 'Tell me all about it—whom you met, what you did, what you learned—everything.'
Sheilah's letters to Cicely had been brief. She
