The Spectator., 1915-11-12
CHAPTER VI.

It was two o'clock in the afternoon 1 Flodie was crying. Seated at her desk her bills filtered, her account books in | disorder. her head was down on her arms, in an attitude of dismal aban- don. She did not weep, she cried. Hall Bonistelle msrried-and not to | her, Married to whom? An, that was the worst of it. If Flodie had known the identity of her rival her sorrow might have, before now. been transmitted into anger. Would Mrs. Royalton, or Carolyn Dallys become | Mrs. Bonistelle? Or, worst of all would the wedding ring be worn by Rosamund Gale? Flodie didn't know Hall didn't know. Even Rosamund i didn't know herself. Hence Flodie's tears, wet and heavy. splashing. trick 1 ling. soaking the dark blue blotter of | Flodie's desk.
 At two-ten sundry sounds, translat- , ed by Flodie's intimate knowledge of Hall Bonistelle's ways, indicated his approach. She sat hastily down at the typewriter and began to print off this interesting message:
 Quiz Jack; thy frowns vex G. D. Plumb"
 Interesting mainly because, con- coction of Flodie's debutante days at the typewriter, 1t contained every l known letter of the alphabet Now it 1 served to focus her mind on her fin gers, and hide her face from scrutiny When Hall came in, she had copied the statement nine times, and seemed too busy for speech.
 Say, I'm going out, Flo!" he an nounced, and tapped with his stick on the floor thoughtfully.
 Flodie kept right on: thy frowns vex G. D. Plumb" But love and curi- wheeled round in her chair. What are going to do, MT. Bonistelle? :? | There's work for you to do, I should | think"
 | Lord, don't feel much like work today, but I've finished Mrs. Royal tons plates. Carry Dallys'. too; some of her poses are not half bad. She's almost pretty, did you know it? didn't have time to develop Rosamund. She can wait; I expect I'll have plenty of time for her later"
 At the infection Flodie turned to him again with a heartbroken look, "Oh. MT Bonistelle! Have you-really ] made up your mind that she-' Flode couldn't finish. She choked. Hall laughed. Lord, made up my mind! What good would that do? It's | up to them, now. Well, I'm on the way to buy the ring-and I ought to | get suit of clothes to go away in I haven't anything at all to wear
 Flodie bit her lip hard. "Oh, MT. Bonistelle!-" was she going to break down, after all? In despair. her fin. gers flew to the keys of her machine. thy frowns. vex c. D. Plumb. Quiz Jack"
 He tapped her playfully with the tip of his stick. Well, I'm off, Flo See you tonight. Be here early!"
 Flodie turned wretched face to him. Her eyes were wet.
 But l don't know how you want the rooms decorated, MT. Bonistelle!' '
 'Oh, don't care-use your own taste. It'll be all right. You can do it. So long, Fol" And he was off
 Flodie went to the washstand be. hind the screen and dabbed her eyes in cold water, then inspected herself mercilessly in the mirror A sigh She made a face at herself and re- turned listlessly to work.
 But mental occupation was impos. sible; Flodie had too much on her mind already. Manual exercise was what she needed to keep her from giving up to her misery. There were the freshly developed plates-she went into the dark room to get them. Taking the rack full of glass mega. tives, she emerged and walked into the office. Busy with melancholy thoughts of Hall Bonistelle, a shock ! awaited her. There was a stranger in the room.
 MT. Bonistelle in?"