"You are very pretty, which is much better," he assured her.
Meriweather came in just then, and sat and talked with them until it was time to go. The young secretary was glad the girl had come. Carew was often overtaken by moods which made him poor company. Yet when he was in these moods Meriweather did not want to leave him, even for a game of bridge.
It was Sally Hulburt who asked a little later about Hildegarde.
"For Heaven's sake, Merry, I didn't know there was a daughter."
"There is. Long-lost, and all that sort of thing. First wife."
"The one he divorced?"
"Yes. She made him do it. She gave him his liberty to let him marry Corinne, and now here's the daughter."
"But why did she come? After all these years?"
"Her mother is dead. And made her promise to look up Carew. She stuck it out herself on an awful old farm in Missouri, but she wanted more than that for Hildegarde."
"She's a pretty thing," Sally said, "but she is not quite comfortable with us."
Hildegarde was not comfortable. Dinner had been difficult. She had known the right forks and spoons, but she had not known what to talk about. With the best intentions in the world, they had sailed right over her head with their light chatter of things which belonged to their lives, but which had never belonged to hers. She had tried not to be self-conscious. But she
