"I took her to a 'musical comedy' once, in a frivolous moment," explained Rose, "and she's never forgiven me."
"Why remind me of it?" questioned Madame. "I've been endeavouring for years to forget it."
Isabel's eyes wandered anxiously to the clock. She had a strong impulse to go to the window again, but remembered that Madame would not approve.
Presently there was the sound of wheels outside, and Allison, very handsome in his evening clothes, came in with an apology for his tardiness. After greeting Madame Bernard and Rose, he bowed to Isabel, with a mock deference which, none the less, contained subtle flattery.
"Silver Girl," he said, "you do me too much honour. I'm not at all sure that one escort is sufficient for so much loveliness."
Isabel smiled, then dimpled irresistibly. She had a secret sense of triumph which she did not stop to analyse.
"Come," he said. "In the words of the poet, 'the carriage waits.'"
They said good-night to the others, and went out. There was silence in the room until the sound of wheels had quite died away, then Rose sighed. With a swift pang, she envied Isabel's glorious youth, then the blood retreated from her heart in shame.
Madame sighed too, but for a different reason. "I suppose I shouldn't say it," she remarked, "but it's a relief to have that dear child out of the house for a little while."
"It's kind of Allison to take her," Rose answered, trying not to wish that she might change places with Isabel.
"Very kind. The Kents are singularly decent about everything. I suppose it was Allison who managed to have Romeo Crosby call upon her the other evening."
"I hardly think so. You remember that Allison hadn't seen him since he grew up."
"Shot up, you mean. How rapidly weeds grow!"
"Are the twins weeds?"
"I think so. Still, they're a wholesome and stimulating sort, even though they have done just as they pleased."
The fire died down into embers. The stillness would have been unbearable had it not been for the steady ticking of the clock. Madame leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. Rose tried to read, but could not concentrate her mind upon the page.
Her thoughts were far away, with the two who had so recently left the house. In fancy she saw the brilliantly lighted streets, the throng of pleasure seekers and pretty women in gay attire. She heard the sound of wheels, the persistent "honk-honk" of motor cars, and, in the playhouse, the crash of cymbals and drums. Somewhere in the happy crowd were Allison and Isabel, while she sat in silence at home.