"No, no, child, what in the world makes you think that?" "Oh, if you'd heard Aunt Victoria say it!" cried Sylvia with conviction.

"I don't like to drive with Sylvia in any car and I don't like riding in a Ford no matter who drives.

Everybody laughed in pleased excitement and everybody seemed satisfied except Mrs. Marshall, who insisted that she should go to the moving pictures while the Professor took Sylvia to the concert.

He answered at once, with his usual direct simplicity, which continued to have for Sylvia at this period something suspiciously like the calmness of a reigning sovereign who is above being embarrassed, who may speak, without shamefacedness, of anything, even of moral values, that subject tabu in sophisticated conversation.

Sylvia for the first time in her life was consciously aware of being very happy.

Straight down the steps of the Main Building they came, Mrs. Hubert glistening in shiny blue silk, extremely unaware of Aunt Victoria, the two little girls looking to Sylvia like fairy princesses, with pink-and-white, lace-trimmed dresses, and big pink hats with rose wreaths.

"Oh, they are just putting the dressing on such an interesting case!" said Miss Lindström's voice coming to Sylvia from a great distance.

Mrs. Marshall-Smith took pains to talk to Sylvia about her father as he had been when he was a brilliant dashing youth in Paris at school, or as the acknowledged social leader of his class in the famous Eastern college.

There was a pause during which they did not speak, and then there burst upon them the splendid tumult of "Death and Transfiguration," which, like a great wind, swept Sylvia out of herself.

" She drew Sylvia into a small inner sanctum and there left her, sitting exhausted in a wooden armchair.

The journey home was almost as wholly a period of suspended animation for Sylvia as the days on the ocean had been.

He landed in the saddle, instinctively gripping with his knees while Burke on one side, Sylvia on the other, set his feet in the stirrups.

Many other matters of Eleanor's attire proved as fruitful of suggestion as this, although Aunt Victoria's well-remembered dictum about the "kitchen-maid's pin-cushion" was a guiding finger-board which warned Sylvia against the multiplication of detail, even desirable detail.

A fuller initiation into the kaleidoscopic divergencies of adult standards was given Sylvia during the visits of her Aunt Victoria.

he cried cheerfully, skating backward with crazy rapidity, and pulling Sylvia after him.

" They were all advancing up the avenue now, Sylvia between the two men.