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Rh ment of her new, absorbing charge, noted the droop of her body and went to her, slipping both arms around her mother’s slender waist.

“Had a nice time, little madrina? Tired?” she asked.

“I’ve enjoyed it a great deal better than I thought I should, I’ve had a nice time, really, Mary. And I’m launched in Vineclad society!” said Mrs. Garden, with a nervous laugh that to Mary’s true ear held in it the suggestion of a sob.

“You’re tired, dearest,” said this mother-daughter. “Say good-night to Mr. and Mrs. Moulton—they’re still here—and come to bed.”