Courtney.

"We'd love to go with you, but I'm not sure I'd want to remain away from my work for a whole year," was Polly's thoughtful answer.

"If we entertained any ideas of taking the voyage, the best time for us to start would be next Fall. Then we could spend our entire winter in the tropics and escape the heat in the equator in the summer, or rainy season, by sailing home again."

"Oh, it sounds great! It remains to see who would go," said Eleanor. Then the girls said good-by, and started away, full of the unusual invitation they had heard that afternoon.

"I'm sure mother and father would not wish me to go," said Polly, after the subject had been exhausted.

"Of course, you couldn't offer the excuse that you were going for advancement in your profession--as we did when we wanted to tour Europe, you know."

"Leaving the thrilling trip out of our minds for a time, I want to ask you if you suspected anything troubling Dalky, lately?" said Polly, seriously.

"Not a thing. He has seemed just the same as ever."

"That's what I should have said. Then he may not know about his wife's perfidy, and I think we ought to prepare him for such news, Nolla."

"Polly, we tried to force an adopted son on him, once, and since that time I have been wary of trying to interfere in any other of his personal affairs."

"Then let us talk it over with Prof. and ask what he thinks about telling Mr. Ashby," suggested Polly.

"That's more like sense. We'll tell Mr. Ashby ourselves, when we get back to the Shops."

Thus Mr. Ashby was told the story as told by Mrs. Courtney but he seemed not surprised as the girls expected him to be. He merely shook his head sympathetically and said nothing.

"Did you know it?" asked Polly, amazed.

"We all knew of it a few weeks ago. Poor Dalky refused all our advice to fight the divorce and exempt himself from paying alimony--as he will have to do for not putting in a defence. He smiled tolerantly and explained: 'If she wants any of my money she is welcome to it. I have more than I can use, you know'."

"There! That is exactly what I said he would do!" declared Polly, vehemently.

"Oh, why does he let her have it? There are so many ways he could make poor people happy, instead of throwing his wealth away on such a mercenary creature!" wailed Eleanor.

"We have no right to question his motives, Nolla," said Mr. Ashby, seriously. "I do not wish to speak of this again, unless he himself mentions the subject to you girls. He has seemed anxious to keep the news from you, for some reason. But I firmly believe the poor man still has a shred of love for his wife alive in his bosom, and that is why he will not oppose her in any way she wishes to secure happiness."

That night when Polly and Eleanor sat together doing some home-work on decorating, Polly suddenly looked up and said: "Nolla, if only our dear Dalky could meet our dear Mrs. Courtney--wouldn't they make a fine couple?"

"Oh, Poll! There you go again! I have tried to keep from thinking that very thing, ever since I heard Mrs. Courtney tell us of that horrid woman's being in Reno. Our Dalky will be free, and what so great as to have him fall in love with a really appreciative woman." Eleanor clasped her hands and expressed ecstatic joy at the very idea of such bliss.

"But the whole plan would be ruined if it turned out that Dalky was still in love with his first wife, you know," argued Polly.

"It wouldn't take long to get him out of it," retorted Eleanor. "With such a lovely woman as Mrs. Courtney to be had for the loving and asking, I'd like to wager all I have that Dalky would walk into the snare."

"What snare? Who'd set it for his faltering steps?" laughed Polly, enjoying this romancing to the utmost.

"Why, we would, to be sure. Now look at it in a practical way, Poll.

There is Mrs. Courtney: very good-looking, rich, refined, lonely, about thirty-five or thirty-eight, at most. Here is our Dalky, also handsome, rich, refined, lonely (but for us) about forty years old, and just the man to have a wonderful wife to make him happy. Is that not an ideal match?" Eleanor tossed her head wisely.

"That's what _we_ think! But we are not going to marry Dalky nor Mrs.

Courtney. They may not agree with us, you know."

"Polly, nothing like trying out a thing to see how it works. Now we must scheme to bring those two together and let them find out how desirable each is for the other," suggested Eleanor.

"I think that is a good plan--bring them together and see how they seem to get along," said Polly, musingly.

"All right, then. How shall we do it?"

"Could we not invite Mrs. Courtney to inspect some of the materials we are going to order for Dalky's apartment? We could so plan that Dalky would be there at the same time. Then they would meet and hear that each one is the great and only friend the other has heard so much about from us?"

"Yes, that's a fine way to get them together," said Polly. "Now when shall it be?"

"The sooner, the better," retorted Eleanor.

"We are going to get that book of new imported samples of damask, this week, Nolla. Why not ask Mrs. Courtney to look at them. As they are ordered for Dalky's apartment, what more natural than he should drop in to look them over?"

Eleanor clapped Polly on the back with approval, and both girls then put their heads together and romanced about the great match they would bring about.

A few days after this conversation, the much-desired package came by European post. It was the book of imported samples which had been ordered for Mr. Dalken's inspection before he would place an order for the materials. The work at Mrs. Courtney's residence had been delayed because the youthful decorators said they wished to look over the magnificent materials from Paris. When they were sure of Mr. Dalken's visit to the Shops that morning, they also insisted upon Mrs. Courtney coming in to look over the materials.

The two plotters could hardly keep from hugging each other when they knew that both friends were coming, and the opportunity of having them meet and fall in love with each other was given at last.

But they did not allow for Fate.

There happened to be a socialistic parade of demonstration against work, or some such complaint, that noon; and just as the parade reached that section of Fifth Avenue where the Ashby Shops were located, the police held up all vehicular traffic. All cars were diverted from the Avenue to side streets, but those unfortunate cars caught just at the point of crossing the street, had to back and wait until those behind had backed out of the congestion, before they could slowly make their way out.

Mrs. Courtney's chauffeur had just attempted to cross the Avenue in order to turn in front of the Ashby Shops, when the signal came and all traffic, up or down or cross-town, was held up until the parade should have pa.s.sed. Mrs. Courtney was furious.

"Back out and we'll go around a side street to get to my destination,"

spoke she to the chauffeur.

The man glanced in the mirror to see if the way behind was open, and finding no car directly in his pathway, he began to quickly back out. In the moment he took his eye from the reflector, another car shot up close to Mrs. Courtney's automobile; thus her driver backed suddenly into the newly arrived car behind.

There was a smash of lamps, a grinding of fenders and the interlocking of back and front b.u.mpers. The pa.s.sengers were rudely thrown from the luxurious cushioned seats, and Mrs. Courtney had her new imported hat crushed out of shape.

The two chauffeurs jumped down and began to blame each other for the accident; Mr. Dalken managed to pick himself up from the floor of his limousine and step stiffly out to learn who was to blame. Mrs. Courtney was sure she was in the right; and when the handsome gentleman came up to her car to tell her she had a stupid chauffeur, for he should have looked well before backing so recklessly into the congested tangle of cars behind him, she resented his charge.

While Mr. Dalken stood beside Mrs. Courtney's car trying to convince her she was in the wrong, the two chauffeurs began to use their fists upon each other. Then, in a few minutes' time, the officer stationed at the corner to maintain order for the paraders, rushed up and arrested both combatants. Naturally, this caused their employers to see that justice was done, and thus it happened that all contestants accompanied the officer to the police-station.

Meantime Polly and Eleanor waited and waited, but no one came to inspect their sample book. They telephoned Mrs. Courtney's house and were told she had left, in her car, fully an hour before. Then they telephoned Mr.

Dalken's office and heard that he had driven away in his car fully an hour before.

"The old parade must have held them up," suggested Polly.

"But that's over, now, and they surely could have been here if they were detained at one of the nearby cross-streets," said Eleanor.

Another half hour pa.s.sed and then two cars drove up and stopped before the Ashby Shops. Two people stepped from their individual cars and two angry people stood and stared at each other. Then Mr. Dalken, recovering first, bowed stiffly and walked across the pavement to enter the Shop door. Mrs. Courtney had started to cross the sidewalk before she realized that her unknown opponent was entering the same Shop she was bound for.

She pa.s.sed through the door he held open, and sent him a careless glance of thanks, then looked around for the girls whom she had expected to meet there.

Neither girl was in sight, and the lady now asked one of the salesmen, "Where shall I find Miss Brewster or Miss Maynard?"