At her corsage was an immense bunch of violets, evidently sent her by her escort.
"Shall I do ?" she asked pertly, walking over to the living-room mirror for a last peep at herself.
"You look very lovely to-night," said Grace honestly.
"Thank you," she swept Grace a curtsey.

A faint mocking smile played about her red lips, as though she doubted the sincerity of the remark.
Slipping on her evening coat of white broadcloth, and placing an extremely handsome scarf of white and gold over her pretty head, Evelyn walked to the door, followed by Althea Parker, who, divided between admiration of Evelyn and fear of being late, was talking rapidly in her high, excited voice.
"Good night, Miss Harlowe," she nodded.
"Oh, yes, good night," called Evelyn carelessly.
Grace leaned back in her chair and smiled at Evelyn's slightly cavalier treatment of herself.

"How her sister has spoiled her," she mused.

"She treats me as though I were one of the maids.

To see her to-night one would be quite likely to imagine that she, rather than Miss Parker, were the richest girl in Overton." A sudden, startled look stole into Grace's eyes.