"You should have stayed in Chicago, whatever you did. We all miss you so!..."
In her glances about the crowded room Milly's eyes had rested upon a little woman seated at a table not far away,—a blond, fluffy-haired, much-dressed and much-jewelled creature, who was scrutinizing the long menu with close attention.
"Do you know who she is, Nelly?" Milly asked, indicating the little blond person. "It seems to me she's some one I ought to know."
Mrs. Kemp glanced out of her lowered eyes; then as the other looked up both bowed. She said in a whisper to Milly,—
"You ought to know her, Milly! She was Annie Dove."
"Who is she now?"
Eleanor Kemp paused to laugh before replying and then whispered,—
"She's who you might have been—Mrs. Clarence Parker!"
"Oh!" Milly murmured and looked again with more curiosity at the fluffy-haired little woman. "She dresses a good deal," she observed. "I wonder how Clarence likes to pay the bills."
"We saw them at Wiesbaden this spring. They seemed quite happy. He was taking the cure."