“Now forget Henry,” she said. “I have had such a big day I must tell you about it, and then we’ll come to that last article you left me. I haven’t had time to put anything on paper concerning it yet, but I believe I have an awfully good idea in the paint pot, and I’ll find time in a day or two to work it out. Peter, I have just come from the bank, where I was recognized as of legal age, and my guardian discharged. And perhaps I ought to explain to you, Peter, that your friend, John Gilman, is not here because this night is going to be a bad one for him. When you knew him best he was engaged, or should have been, to Marian Thorne. When you met him this time he really was engaged to Eileen. I don’t know what you think about Eileen. I don’t feel like influencing anyone’s thought concerning her, so I’ll merely say that to-day has confirmed a conviction that always has been in my heart. Katy could tell you that long ago I said to her that I did not believe Eileen was my sister. To-day has brought me the knowledge and proof positive that she is not, and to-day she has gone to some wealthy relatives of her mother in San Francisco. She expressed her contempt for what she was giving up by leaving everything, including the exquisite little necklace of pearls which has been a daily part of her since she owned them. I may be mistaken, but intuition tells me that with the pearls and the wardrobe she has also discarded John Gilman. I think your friend will be suffering to-night quite as deeply as my friend suffered when John abandoned her at a time when she had lost everything else in life but her money. I feel very sure that we won’t see Eileen any more. I hope she will have every lovely thing in life.”
“Amen,” said Peter Morrison earnestly. “I loved John Gilman when we were in school together, but I have not been able to feel, since I located here, that he is exactly the same John; and what you have told me very probably explains the difference in him.”
When Katy announced dinner Linda arose.
Peter Morrison stepped beside her and offered his arm. Linda rested her finger tips upon it and he led her to the head of the table and seated her. Then Katy served a meal that, if it had been prepared for Eileen, she would have described as a banquet. She gave them delicious, finely flavored food, stimulating, exquisitely compounded drinks that she had concocted from the rich fruits of California and mints and essences at her command. When, at the close of the meal, she brought Morrison some of the cigars Eileen kept for John Gilman, she set a second tray before Linda, and this tray contained two packages. Linda looked at Katy inquiringly, and Katy, her face beaming, nodded her sandy red head emphatically.
“More birthday gifts you’re havin’, me lady,” she said in her mellowest Irish voice.
“More?” marveled Linda. She picked up the larger package, and opening it, found a beautiful book inscribed from her friend Donald, over which she passed caressing fingers.
“Why, how lovely of him!” she said. “How in this world did he know?”
Katherine O’Donovan could have answered that question, but she did not. The other package was from Marian. When she opened it Linda laughed unrestrainedly.
“What a joke!” she said. “I had promised myself that I would not touch a thing in Eileen’s room, and before I could do justice to Katy’s lovely dress I had to go there for pins for my hair and powder for my nose. This is Marian’s way of telling me that I am almost a woman. Will you look at this?”
“Well, just what is it?” inquired Peter.