I want to see them on. And who is to know your dress is gingham? And what if it is?”

“All right,” laughed June, and presently the skillful fingers that had recently been soothingly bathing little Nannie’s hot forehead fastened the beautiful gardenias with a grace that could vie with any of the modern outlandish hats. She gave one glance into the little mirror over the windshield, patted one flower a little more to the right, and then looked up.

“Is that all right?” she asked amusedly.

“Perfect,” said the young man. “I can recommend you as a milliner any time you want a new job.”

“All right,” she said. “Then let’s go. But I warn you, someone will laugh at me.”

“Let them laugh!” said Paige, helping her out of the car and watching her admiringly. To his man’s eyes there was nothing incongruous in her costume. And perhaps even a woman looking at her casually would notice nothing out of the way.

So they entered the building and followed the crowd to the great dining room.

Paige, with quiet sense, selected a small table unobtrusively placed where they could see without being too much in the public eye, and when they were seated he turned his admiration on the girl he had brought with him. How lovely she looked with those fresh gorgeous flowers nestled in her pretty hair! She might be conscious that her costume would not bear close inspection by the critical, but certainly she was beautiful and was in no way conspicuous.

An obsequious waiter provided them with menus and they soon selected their orders, for they were both hungry, now that they were in the neighborhood of food.

June was not a girl to sit and brood over her unsuitable garb. She promptly forgot it and entered into the festive time with pleasure.

“It seems like another world, doesn’t it? So different from that forlorn little house where we’ve been this afternoon.”

“Yes, it does. That’s the way I felt when I got home from war zones. It was incredible that the same universe could contain both merriment and misery. It didn’t seem right somehow to be in a place of quiet restfulness and plenty, when some of my buddies were just starting off to go into death and pain and frightfulness.”

“Yes, I understand,” said June, with sweet thoughtfulness, “and yet it must have been necessary that you should change your viewpoint from time to time, or human flesh could not endure and keep on doing the work of a fighter.”

“Yes, of course, there was that side, too. Although we didn’t get to see much merriment when we were in the actual fighting zone. People over there had seen fright and suffering enough so that they never got entirely away from the thought of it, the fear of it. But what got me was when I came home and found so-called decent, respectable men with pleasant incomes and palatial homes, gypping some of the poor returned men who hadn’t anywhere to lay their heads.”

“Yes,” said June, with a blaze of indignation in her eyes. “Like the man who is grinding down those poor protégés of ours. They tell me he is a very religious man and gives large sums to worthy causes. But look what he’s done to these poor Shambleys. Do you suppose he knows them personally? Does he understand how desperate they are?”

“Probably not.”

“Well, do you suppose it would do any good if somebody were to go and tell him? Could we possibly get him to go and see for himself?”

“Probably not. He would say he was too busy and that they were likely good-for-nothings.”

“No, they aren’t. They have self-respect and a certain kind of pride. It may not be the wisest kind, that shrinking out of sight that doesn’t venture to push one’s self into notice, but after all, some of those so-called decent, respectable people don’t even have that much dignity and self-respect. If they see a chance to make a penny by squeezing an unfortunate, it wouldn’t take much of their kind of philosophy to make them yield to the temptation. I’m beginning to conclude that that is how a good many of them got wealthy and influential.”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” sighed Paige.

And then the waiter appeared with their delicious-looking dinner, and they settled themselves to enjoy it.

Suddenly there entered a noisy group of girls and men, bright and noticeable in smart evening clothes, barging into the place as if they owned it, laughing and talking as if they might have been drinking already. Paige looked up from his dinner and glanced, annoyed, toward the newcomers. Something familiar in the loud, unrestrained laughter of one of the girls, reminiscent of unpleasant memories, made him look at her sharply, and there she was. Reva Chalmers! And coming right toward him, as if she was coming to get even with him somehow.

His face grew stern as he watched her come, with that hateful challenging grin on her wide red lips, and his chin lifted haughtily, his eyes grew grave.

Reva marched at the head of her merry clan as if with stern purpose, and brought up standing in front of the quiet little table where June sat in her blue gingham and gardenias, with surprise on her face.

But Reva was looking straight at Paige, chin up, a challenging sneer on her lips.

“So, this is where you were, Paige Madison, is it?” she accosted him, quite as if she had a right.

With an annoyed and somewhat puzzled frown, Paige rose politely.

“I beg your pardon?” he said, looking at her with surprise. “I don’t think I quite understand.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” sneered the girl, “but I’ve been calling all over the place for you, and couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“Oh?” said Paige. “Was it something important you wanted? Some message from your father?”

She burst into a laugh in which her huddled party joined boisterously.

“No, it wasn’t any message from Dad,” she said, when she could speak for laughter.