The Angel’s face clouded.

“What a disappointment!” she cried.  “I did so want all my friends to know you.  Can’t you stay anyway?”

Freckles glanced from his wading-boots to the patent leathers of some of the Angel’s friends, and smiled whimsically, but there was no danger of his ever misjudging her again.

“You know I cannot, Angel,” he said.

“I am afraid I do,” she said ruefully.  “It’s too bad!  But there is a thing I want for you more than to come to my party, and that is to hang on and win with your work.  I think of you every day, and I just pray that those thieves are not getting ahead of you.  Oh, Freckles, do watch closely!”

She was so lovely a picture as she stood before him, ardent in his cause, that Freckles could not take his eyes from her to notice what her friends were thinking.  If she did not mind, why should he?  Anyway, if they really were the Angel’s friends, probably they were better accustomed to her ways than he.

Her face and bared neck and arms were like the wild rose bloom.  Her soft frock of white tulle lifted and stirred around her with the gentle evening air.  The beautiful golden hair, that crept around her temples and ears as if it loved to cling there, was caught back and bound with broad blue satin ribbon.  There was a sash of blue at her waist, and knots of it catching up her draperies.

“Must I go after the Bird Woman?” she pleaded.

“Indade, you must,” answered Freckles firmly.

The Angel went away, but returned to say that the Bird Woman was telling a story to those inside and she could not come for a short time.

“You won’t come in?” she pleaded.

“I must not,” said Freckles.  “I am not dressed to be among your friends, and I might be forgetting meself and stay too long.”

“Then,” said the Angel, “we mustn’t go through the house, because it would disturb the story; but I want you to come the outside way to the conservatory and have some of my birthday lunch and some cake to take to Mrs. Duncan and the babies.  Won’t that be fun?”

Freckles thought that it would be more than fun, and followed delightedly.

The Angel gave him a big glass, brimming with some icy, sparkling liquid that struck his palate as it never had been touched before, because a combination of frosty fruit juices had not been a frequent beverage with him.  The night was warm, and the Angel most beautiful and kind.  A triple delirium of spirit, mind, and body seized upon him and developed a boldness all unnatural.  He slightly parted the heavy curtains that separated the conservatory from the company and looked between.  He almost stopped breathing.  He had read of things like that, but he never had seen them.

The open space seemed to stretch through half a dozen rooms, all ablaze with lights, perfumed with flowers, and filled with elegantly dressed people.  There were glimpses of polished floors, sparkling glass, and fine furnishings.  From somewhere, the voice of his beloved Bird Woman arose and fell.