THE GAY COCKADE
rides, from which he returned ecstatic, with wild flowers in his coat and a knowledge of work left undone.
Gossip began to fly about. Aunt Priscilla warned Dulcie.
"It is a dangerous thing to do, my dear. People will talk."
"What do Mills and I care for people? Oh, if it were not for Mary" She had just come in from a ride with Mills, and her eyes were shining.
"I wish we were not dining there to-night," said Aunt Priscilla. "I wonder how Mary manages a dinner of eight with only one servant."
"She is so splendid and competent, Aunt Cilla. Mills says so. Everybody says it. Things are easy for her that would be hard for other people."
"I wonder what she thinks of you?"
Dulcie, drawing off her gloves, meditated.
"I fancy she likes me. I know I love her, but not so much as I love Mills."
Fifteen years ago Dulcie would have died rather than admit her love for a married man. But since then she had seen life through the eyes of a worldly-minded old husband, and it had made a difference.
At dinner that night Dulcie was exquisite in orchid tulle with a string of pearls that hung to her knees. Her hair was like ripe corn, waved and parted on the side with a girlish knot behind. Her
156
