“We’ll be back next Sunday, Mrs. Lancaster.  But don’t worry if you don’t hear from Georgie that day, for we may be late, and Mother won’t naturally want us to run off the moment we get home.  But on Monday Georgie can go over, if she wants to.  Perhaps I’ll drive her over, if I can.”

“He was the coolest—–!” Susan said, half-annoyed, half-admiring, to Mary Lou, late that night.  The boarding-house had been pleasantly fluttered by the departure of the bride, Mrs. Lancaster, in spite of herself, had enjoyed the little distinction of being that personage’s mother.

“Well, she’ll be back again in a week!” Virginia, missing her sister, sighed.

“Back, yes,” Mrs. Lancaster admitted, “but not quite the same, dear!” Georgie, whatever her husband, whatever the circumstances of her marriage, was nearer her mother than any of the others now.  As a wife, she was admitted to the company of wives.

Susan spent the evening in innocently amorous dreams, over her game of patience.  What a wonderful thing, if one loved a man, to fare forth into the world with him as his wife!——­

“I have about as much chance with Joe Carroll as a dead rat,” said Billy suddenly.  He was busied with his draughting board and the little box of draughts-man’s instruments that Susan always found fascinating, and had been scowling and puffing over his work.

“Why?” Susan asked, laughing outright.  “Oh, she’s so darn busy!” Billy said, and returned to his work.

Susan pondered it.  She wished she were so “darned” busy that Peter Coleman might have to scheme and plan to see her.

“That’s why men’s love affairs are considered so comparatively unimportant, I suppose,” she submitted presently.  “Men are so busy!”

Billy paid no attention to the generality, and Susan pursued it no further.

But after awhile she interrupted him again, this time in rather an odd tone.

“Billy, I want to ask you something—–­”

“Ask away,” said Billy, giving her one somewhat startled glance.

Susan did not speak immediately, and he did not hurry her.  A few silent minutes passed before she laid a card carefully in place, studied it with her head on one side, and said casually, in rather a husky voice: 

“Billy, if a man takes a girl everywhere, and gives her things, and seems to want to be with her all the time, he’s in love with her, isn’t he?”

Billy, apparently absorbed in what he was doing, cleared his throat before he answered carelessly: 

“Well, it might depend, Sue.  When a man in my position does it, a girl knows gosh darn well that if I spend my good hard money on her I mean business!”

“But—­it mightn’t be so—­with a rich man?” hazarded Susan bravely.

“Why, I don’t know, Sue.”  An embarrassed red had crept into William’s cheeks.  “Of course, if a fellow kissed her—–­”

“Oh, heavens!” cried Susan, scarlet in turn, “he never did anything like that!”