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It
put
them
on
equal
terms
,
although
she
was
quite
capable
of
staging
her
own
romances
,
with
or
without
advance
advertising
.
But
following
her
happy
tremble
of
anticipation
,
came
a
sinking
sensation
that
made
her
ask
:
"
How
do
you
mean
he
's
heard
about
me
?
What
sort
of
things
?
"
Sally
smiled
.
She
felt
rather
in
the
capacity
of
a
showman
with
her
more
exotic
cousin
.
"
He
knows
you
're
--
you
're
considered
beautiful
and
all
that
"
--
she
paused
--
"
and
I
guess
he
knows
you
've
been
kissed
.
"
At
this
Isabelle
's
little
fist
had
clinched
suddenly
under
the
fur
robe
.
She
was
accustomed
to
be
thus
followed
by
her
desperate
past
,
and
it
never
failed
to
rouse
in
her
the
same
feeling
of
resentment
;
yet
--
in
a
strange
town
it
was
an
advantageous
reputation
.
She
was
a
"
Speed
,
"
was
she
?
Well
--
let
them
find
out
.
Out
of
the
window
Isabelle
watched
the
snow
glide
by
in
the
frosty
morning
.
It
was
ever
so
much
colder
here
than
in
Baltimore
;
she
had
not
remembered
;
the
glass
of
the
side
door
was
iced
,
the
windows
were
shirred
with
snow
in
the
corners
.
Her
mind
played
still
with
one
subject
.
Did
he
dress
like
that
boy
there
,
who
walked
calmly
down
a
bustling
business
street
,
in
moccasins
and
winter-carnival
costume
?
How
very
Western
!
Of
course
he
was
n't
that
way
:
he
went
to
Princeton
,
was
a
sophomore
or
something
.
Really
she
had
no
distinct
idea
of
him
.
An
ancient
snap-shot
she
had
preserved
in
an
old
kodak
book
had
impressed
her
by
the
big
eyes
(
which
he
had
probably
grown
up
to
by
now
)
.
However
,
in
the
last
month
,
when
her
winter
visit
to
Sally
had
been
decided
on
,
he
had
assumed
the
proportions
of
a
worthy
adversary
.
Children
,
most
astute
of
match-makers
,
plot
their
campaigns
quickly
,
and
Sally
had
played
a
clever
correspondence
sonata
to
Isabelle
's
excitable
temperament
.
Isabelle
had
been
for
some
time
capable
of
very
strong
,
if
very
transient
emotions
...
They
drew
up
at
a
spreading
,
white-stone
building
,
set
back
from
the
snowy
street
.
Mrs.
Weatherby
greeted
her
warmly
and
her
various
younger
cousins
were
produced
from
the
corners
where
they
skulked
politely
.
Isabelle
met
them
tactfully
.
At
her
best
she
allied
all
with
whom
she
came
in
contact
--
except
older
girls
and
some
women
.
All
the
impressions
she
made
were
conscious
.
The
half-dozen
girls
she
renewed
acquaintance
with
that
morning
were
all
rather
impressed
and
as
much
by
her
direct
personality
as
by
her
reputation
.
Amory
Blaine
was
an
open
subject
.
Evidently
a
bit
light
of
love
,
neither
popular
nor
unpopular
--
every
girl
there
seemed
to
have
had
an
affair
with
him
at
some
time
or
other
,
but
no
one
volunteered
any
really
useful
information
.
He
was
going
to
fall
for
her
...
Sally
had
published
that
information
to
her
young
set
and
they
were
retailing
it
back
to
Sally
as
fast
as
they
set
eyes
on
Isabelle
.
Isabelle
resolved
secretly
that
she
would
,
if
necessary
,
force
herself
to
like
him
--
she
owed
it
to
Sally
.
Suppose
she
were
terribly
disappointed
.
Sally
had
painted
him
in
such
glowing
colors
--
he
was
good-looking
,
"
sort
of
distinguished
,
when
he
wants
to
be
,
"
had
a
line
,
and
was
properly
inconstant
.
In
fact
,
he
summed
up
all
the
romance
that
her
age
and
environment
led
her
to
desire
.
She
wondered
if
those
were
his
dancing-shoes
that
fox-trotted
tentatively
around
the
soft
rug
below
.
All
impressions
and
,
in
fact
,
all
ideas
were
extremely
kaleidoscopic
to
Isabelle
.
She
had
that
curious
mixture
of
the
social
and
the
artistic
temperaments
found
often
in
two
classes
,
society
women
and
actresses
.
Her
education
or
,
rather
,
her
sophistication
,
had
been
absorbed
from
the
boys
who
had
dangled
on
her
favor
;
her
tact
was
instinctive
,
and
her
capacity
for
love-affairs
was
limited
only
by
the
number
of
the
susceptible
within
telephone
distance
.
Flirt
smiled
from
her
large
black-brown
eyes
and
shone
through
her
intense
physical
magnetism
.
