would have come out anyhow. Up to this time there's been the effect of her mother's influence. But it couldn't last forever. And now she's thrown it off. That's a part, too, of what attracts people to her—the mystery. Nobody knew through all these years that Louis had a daughter."
"The distressing thing," Miss Anne asserted, "is that we can't afford a popular debutante. But Louis won't listen to reason. He says he'll eat and drink and be merry—and end in the poorhouse. You know that sort of thing."
"What does Hildegarde think about it."
"She told her father flatly she wouldn't have any more new clothes. And that he mustn't entertain for her. But she loves it. You can see that. And Louis is inordinately proud of her. He says it's a shame she shouldn't have her chance."
"Well, it is," Mrs. Hulburt agreed.
"I won't ride for a fall," Miss Anne said, with decision. "I've told Louis. And he says he doesn't want my money. It seems that Neale sees a way out for him financially; but I am not very hopeful. I've counted too many chickens."
Mrs. Hulburt interrupted: "The girls are coming."
Hildegarde and Sally, passing other tables on their way to their own, were much observed. Sally's engagement and Hildegarde's success at Winslow's ball had given the two of them an almost sensational prominence. And now, slim and straight in their dark coats, Sally with a close scarlet hat and Hildegarde wearing the new broad effect with a bunch of violets flat on the brim—they gathered to themselves all the
