The conversation was not taking the course that Reba had anticipated, and she felt bewildered.
"A good sport," she groped. "You mean"
"I mean that Virginia is perfectly willing to allow me my little affairs, just so I allow her hers. So we get on very amicably. Are really on the best of terms now, and when we are obliged to appear at functions together, do so very creditably."
"Is this—this I mean our being together this summer, one of the 'little affairs'?" Reba asked miserably.
"Oh, oh, Becky!" smiled Chadwick Booth, shaking his head at her accusingly. "Jealous? Is that it? Listen to me," he said, with assumed gravity. "Our being together this summer is one of the biggest 'little affairs' I've ever had. I only meant to amuse you for an evening or two, and myself, too," he admitted, shrugging, "and here you have walked straight into my affections."
Reba clasped her hands together in her lap. The waiter had arrived. He placed before her a tomato stuffed with something green and yellow. There were two slim fish crossed on top of it.
"Try that," exclaimed Chadwick Booth, good-humoredly, nodding toward the plate before her. "I think you'll find it rather good."
Mechanically Reba reached for her fork and sampled a bit of the peculiar combination. It had a sharp, highly cultivated sort of flavor. It burned her tongue. But somehow she swallowed the morsel.
"Do you like it?" Chadwick Booth smiled at her.
She was unaware of his question, was conscious only of a smarting sensation of tongue, and throat, and heart—yes, heart too! She gulped down a little
