"What are you going to wear?" asked Fanny Tweedie, one afternoon while she and Barbara Wallace were rehearsing the scene from the "Lady of Lyons" which they, with Mrs. Blake, were to play at the club theatricals.

"What are the others, who are to play the part of men, going to wear?" questioned Barbara in reply.

"Oh, dresses fixed up in some outlandish way, but I had hoped that you—" said the amateur Pauline, impatiently.

"Would wear something out of the ordinary," Barbara interrupted, smilingly.

"Yes," replied Fanny, "Claude Melnotte should wear something—something unexpected."

Barbara laughed, but Fanny stood looking at her doubtfully.

"What in the world are you laughing at, Barbara Wallace?" she demanded.

"How would you define, or describe, an 'unexpected' costume?" asked Barbara.

"Oh," replied Fanny, "is that what amused you? I meant something stunning, something that would make the people talk for weeks, something—"

"Dear me, don't go on like that, Fanny, it's too horrible, too impossible. I have an idea for a costume, but—"

"Well, tell me what your idea is."

"But I'm not sure yet. When—"

"Please, Barbara—"

"But, Fanny, I don't know myself. When I do—"

"I promise not to breathe a word," persisted Fanny, coaxingly.

"You shall be the first to know when I have decided," said Barbara. She liked Fanny despite her shallow nature, and Fanny was "awfully fond" of Barbara, and talked less about her to others than she did about anybody else.

"There's no use talking," said Fanny when she saw that Barbara could not be teased into describing the costume she was to wear, "some of the ladies are simply fearful in their parts, and I'm afraid that they will be laughed at when they appear in public."

"No doubt," replied Barbara, "if, by 'in public,' you mean before the residents of Manville."

"Yes, of course that's what I mean," Fanny continued. "Everybody will be there. The club and what it is doing has caused more talk than anything that has happened since the Declaration of Independence. And since Mrs. Flint and Mrs. Walton have resigned, and everybody knows that Mr. Flint is dreadfully set against the club and its theatricals, the Morning Glories have had a boom."

"Some one certainly has advertised us," said Barbara, much amused. Will had told her of the domestic scene at the parsonage.

"I suppose," continued Fanny, "that you knew all about Mrs. Flint's resigning before any of the rest of us." Barbara's face betrayed her. "Aren't you mean," Fanny went on, "not to tell."

"You little goose," replied Barbara, "what would you think of me if I ran and told everything that I knew about the minister's family—supposing that I ever did know anything about their affairs." Fanny did not think it mean for some folks to run and tell, but she would have been surprised if Barbara had done so.

"You might tell me," she pouted.

Barbara put her arm about Fanny, girl-fashion, and kissed her.

"Fanny, dear," she said, "there's something that I will tell you, something that I haven't told to a soul in the whole world." Fanny was all smiles and attention in an instant, and warmly squeezed Barbara's hand.

"I knew you would," she exclaimed.

"Mr. Flint—" Barbara began, but Fanny interrupted her.

"The minister?"

"No, the other Mr. Flint."

"Oh."

"Mr. Flint—"

"Why don't you call him Will, or Billy?"

Barbara did not choose to answer that question. A Mr. persistently used, is often a good sign—for the young man.

"Mr. Flint," Barbara began again, "is going away."

"To work?"

"Yes."

"Oh, isn't that lovely!"

"Yes," replied Barbara, without enthusiasm.

"I mean, isn't it splendid to think that he is going to do something—be somebody."

"Was he not somebody before?" asked Barbara, quickly.

"Yes, of course, but—you know how people have talked about him."

"And half that they have said is not true," said Barbara, resentfully.

"You and I know it, but the others don't. Most folks like to hear and believe horrible things about somebody else." (Fanny was wiser than she knew.) "When is he going?"

"To-morrow."

"And aren't you going to see him again before he goes?"

"Yes," Barbara replied as a pink flush spread over her cheeks, "to-night."