“She rode up with us.”

“Then it is all right.  I see David Collins has got Patricia Illingworth in tow—­he came with Polly.  I wonder if they’ve had a quarrel.”

“I never knew them to quarrel,” said Juanita Sterling.

“Oh, don’t they?  Well, it looks like it now.  He took Patricia out to supper, too.”

“So he did,” responded Miss Major.  “I didn’t think of it in that light.  We’ve had a nice evening, anyway.  It seems good to get out of the rut.”

“Yes,” answered Miss Castlevaine grudgingly; “but they’ll have to keep this up, now they’ve begun, or there’ll be more fusses than a few!”

“What do you mean?”

“Why, everybody’ll have to have a birthday party, or the rest’ll be jealous.”

“Oh, yes, I see!  But they couldn’t do it for all.”

“Then there’ll be trouble!  And I don’t know as I should blame them any.  Why should one of the family have all the good times and loads of presents, and nobody else have anything—­huh!”

“It hasn’t established a precedent by any means,” asserted Miss Major.

“Indeed, it has!  And they ought to have thought of that before they began.”

“I doubt if any such thing ever occurred to Polly and Doodles,” interposed Miss Sterling.  “They were thinking only of giving Miss Lily a pleasant birthday.  I am glad she had so many presents.”

“Well, Mr. Randolph meant she should have enough candy for once, didn’t he?  A five-pound box certainly!  If she eats it all herself, it’ll make her sick!  I don’t suppose she ever had so much at one time before, and she won’t use any judgment about it.  It would have been in a good deal better taste to have given her a simple pound box.”

“Oh, no!” laughed Miss Major.  “I’d rather have a five-pound box any time!  And so would you!”

“I suppose he’s used to that size,” retorted Miss Castlevaine.  “He probably gives ’em to his girl by the cartload—­huh!”

“Who is she?” queried Miss Major.

“Why, that Puddicombe girl!  He is engaged to Blanche
Puddicombe—­didn’t you know it?”

“No, I hadn’t heard.”

“Well, he is!  They say the wedding isn’t coming off till next spring.  I guess he’s bound to have all he can get out of his freedom till then—­he won’t have much after he’s tied to that silly-pate!”

“She looks it all right!  Her mother isn’t any too smart.”

“No, and the Puddicombe side is worse.  We used to think that Si Puddicombe knew less than nothing!  And Le Grand Puddicombe—­”

Juanita Sterling edged a little closer into the seat corner.  She had no interest in Le Grand Puddicombe.  She stared into the night.  A raw wind struck her face.  Thick clouds had suddenly shut out the moon, and a chill over-spread the earth.  All was dark, dark, except for the flashing lines ahead.  The steady pur-r-r-r-r-ing of the car was in the air.  Miss Castlevaine’s monotonous voice ran on and on; but, the little woman at the end of the seat realized nothing except the insistent words knelling through her brain,—­“Engaged to Blanche Puddicombe!  Engaged to Blanche Puddicombe!”