"Exactly. But I drew against the old gentleman, as usual, so on with the dance. What's the--er--idea of the ap.r.o.n?"

"It's nearly dinner-time."

Bob's eyes opened with surprise. "Why, we're going to Delmonico's."

"I'd--rather do this if you don't mind." She eyed him appealingly.

"I don't feel equal to going out to-night. I'm--afraid."

"Don't you keep a maid?" he inquired.

"Where would I keep her--in the ice-box?" Lorelei smiled faintly.

His glance brightened with admiration. "Well, you look stunning in that get-up, and I'd hate to see you change it. Do you mean to say you can COOK?"

"Not well, but I can fry almost anything. Mother has a maid. I couldn't afford two."

"I love fried things," he a.s.sured her, with a twinkle. "And to think you're going to cook for ME! That's an experience for both of us. Let's have some fried roast beef and fried corn on the cob with fried salad and cheese--"

"Don't tease," she begged, uncertainly. "I hardly know what I'm doing, and I thought this would keep me busy until theater-time."

He extended a hand timidly and patted her arm, saying with unexpected gentleness:

"Please don't worry. I supposed we'd dine in public, but if you like this better, so do I. When we pull ourselves together and get settled a bit we'll make our plans for the future. At present I'm still in a daze. It was a terrible night for all of us. When I think of it I'm sure it must have been a dream. I saw Merkle; he's perfectly cold and matter-of-fact about it all. He got back to Hammon's house ahead of the doctor, and n.o.body suspects the truth.

But the Street is in chaos, and all of Hammon's companies are feeling the strain. The shorts are running to cover, and there's a report that it was suicide, which makes things worse. It couldn't have happened at a more inopportune time, either. Dad's on his way from Pittsburg to help save Merkle's bank."

"Shouldn't you have been at business on such a day?"

Bob shrugged carelessly. "I'm only a 'joke' broker. The governor thinks a firm-name looks well on my cards. I hope he doesn't lose more than a million in this flurry--it won't improve his disposition. But--wait till he learns I've married a girl who can fry things--By the way--" Bob paused. "I invited a friend to dine with us tonight."

Lorelei was less dismayed than he had expected. "So have I," she said.

"I thought it might be pleasanter for you," he explained, a bit awkwardly, "inasmuch as we're not very well--acquainted. I saw before I went out that you were--er--embarra.s.sed--and--and--" He flushed boyishly, scarcely conscious of the delicacy that had prompted his action. "Anyhow, he's gone home to put on a clean sweater."

"You don't mean you asked--?"

"Campbell Pope; yes. I met him, and he looked hungry. He's coming here at six." For almost the first time in Bob's society Lorelei laughed out clearly.

"And I asked Adoree Demorest," she said.

Bob grinned and then laughed with her. "Fine!" he cried. "Both members of this club. Really, this ought to make the best finish fight seen in New York for many a day."

"I don't care," Lorelei said, stubbornly. "Adoree is the most misjudged person in America, and Pope ought to know the truth."

As she flitted back and forth preparing dinner Bob kept up a ceaseless chatter that did much to lessen their constraint. She was conscious through it all of his admiration, but it still seemed to be the admiration of a stranger, not of a husband; never for one moment had either of them felt the binding force of their new relationship; never had they been farther apart than now.

Adoree's surprise at finding Robert Wharton in her friend's apartment was intense, and when she learned the truth she was for once in her life speechless. She could only stare from one to the other, wavering between consternation and delight. Finally she sat down limply.

"I--I'd have brought a present if I'd known," she managed to say.

"Are you going to wish us luck?" Bob inquired.

"Luck! You've both got it. She's the best girl in the world, and you're--" Adoree hesitated, and continued to stare, round-eyed. "I didn't think you'd--I didn't think she'd--I don't know what I thought or didn't think. But--Jimminy! MARRIED!" When Lorelei led her into the bedroom to lay off her wraps the thunderstruck young woman had more nearly recovered herself. "Why, he's worth millions," she exclaimed, in a whisper--"BILLIONS! I don't know how to talk to him--or you, for that matter. Shall I call you 'my Lady' or 'your Honor,' or--"

"You knew how to talk to him that night of the supper."

"And to think you married him after what hap--I'm going to slap the very first millionaire _I_ meet--maybe he'll propose to me."

She was suddenly dismayed. "Why, I can't afford to buy YOU a wedding-gift--you'll expect a diamond sunburst or a set of sea- otter. I didn't dress for dinner either; I suppose I should have worn the crown jools."

"You're going to wear an ap.r.o.n and help me scorch the dinner,"

Lorelei laughed.

"You--COOKING, with a billionaire husband!" Adoree gasped. "Am I dreaming? Why don't you dine aboard his yacht, or--buy the Plaza and have dinner served in the lobby? You COOKING! Why, you're going to have automobiles to match your dresses, and chateaux in France, and servants, and stables of polo-ponies, and a Long Island estate, and a hunting-lodge, and--and thousands of gowns, and a maid to put 'em on. She'll do it, too--when you're not looking." Miss Demorest paused, dazzled by the splendor of her own imaginings. "YOU! COOKING! Stop fidgeting and let me kiss you.

There!"

As Lorelei explained the reasons for to-night's program, Adoree saw for the first time the weariness in her friend's eyes, the pallor of her cheeks, the tremulous droop of her lower lip.

Seizing Lorelei by the shoulders, she held her off as the target for a searching gaze.

"Tell me, did they MAKE you marry him?" she inquired, fiercely. It was plain to whom she referred.

"No."

"Whew! I'm glad to hear that. You love him, don't you?"

The answer came readily enough, and the blue eyes did not flinch, but the smile was a trifle fixed and the cheeks remained colorless.

"Why, of course. He's very nice."

"Lorelei!" Miss Demorest's fingers tightened; her voice was tragic, but she had no chance to say more, for Bob called just then from the living-room:

"Hurry back, girls. There's something burning, and I can't find the emergency brake."

When Adoree finally came forth in one of Lorelei's ap.r.o.ns--really a fetching garment, more like a house dress than an ap.r.o.n--Bob told her whom they were expecting as the other guest.

She paused with a bread-knife upraised.

"That--VIPER?" she cried.

"Campbell isn't a viper; he's a cricket--a dramatic cricket,"

declared Bob.

Adoree began to undo the b.u.t.tons at her back, but Bob seized her hands.

"Let go. I'll blow up if I see that creature," she exclaimed, in a kind of subdued shout.

Argument proved vain until Lorelei told her firmly: "You owe it to yourself, dear. And we WON'T let you go."

The dancer ceased her struggles, her brows puckered. "Perhaps I do owe it to myself, as you say. Anyhow, I haven't taken a human life yet, and this is my chance."