“Oh, you dear boy!  You were always so amiable.  It’s a pity the world is not like you; but it is not.”

“It is a pity people do not let others alone and attend to their own affairs,” remarked Keith, grimly.  “I believe more than half the trouble is made by the meddlers who go around gossiping.”

“Don’t they!  Why, every one is talking about it.  I have not been in a drawing-room where it is not being discussed.”

“I suppose not,” said Mr. Keith.

“And, you know, they say Norman Wentworth has lost a lot of money, too.  But, then, he has a large account to fall back on.  Alice Lancaster has a plenty.”

“What’s that?” Keith’s voice had an unpleasant sharpness in it.

“Oh, you know, he is her trustee, and they are great friends.  Good-by.  You must come and dine with us sometime—­sometime soon, too.”

And Mrs. Nailor floated away, and in the first drawing-room she visited told of Keith’s return and of his taking the story of Louise Wentworth and Ferdy Wickersham very seriously; adding, “And you know, I think he is a great admirer of Louise himself—­a very great admirer.  Of course, he would like to marry Alice Lancaster, just as Ferdy would.  They all want to marry her; but Louise Wentworth is the one that has their hearts.  She knows how to capture them.  You keep your eyes open.  You ought to have seen the way he looked when I mentioned Ferdy Wickersham and her.  My dear, a man doesn’t look that way unless he feels something here.”  She tapped solemnly the spot where she imagined her heart to be, that dry and desiccated organ that had long ceased to know any real warmth.

A little time afterwards, Keith, to his great surprise, received an invitation to dine at Mrs. Wickersham’s.  He had never before received an invitation to her house, and when he had met her, she had always been stiff and repellent toward him.  This he had regarded as perfectly natural; for he and Ferdy had never been friendly, and of late had not even kept up appearances.

He wondered why he should be invited now.  Could it be true, as Stirling had said, laughing, that now he had the key and would find all doors open to him?

Keith had not yet written his reply when he called that evening at Mrs. Lancaster’s.  She asked him if he had received such an invitation.  Keith said yes, but he did not intend to go.  He almost thought it must have been sent by mistake.

“Oh, no; now come.  Ferdy won’t be there, and Mrs. Wickersham wants to be friendly with you.  You and Ferdy don’t get along; but neither do she and Ferdy.  You know they have fallen out?  Poor old thing!  She was talking about it the other day, and she burst out crying.  She said he had been her idol.”

“What is the matter?”

“Oh, Ferdy’s selfishness.”

“He is a brute!  Think of a man quarrelling with his mother!  Why—!” He went into a reverie in which his face grew very soft, while Mrs. Lancaster watched him silently.  Presently he started.  “I have nothing against her except a sort of general animosity from boyhood, which I am sorry to have.”