Barbara, who had left the library through one of its seven doors, had failed to see Mrs.Brewster by the slightest margin; she was intent only on being with Helen.The affection between the twins was very close; but while their facial resemblance was remarkable, their natures were totally dissimilar.Helen, the elder by twenty minutes, was studious, shy, and too much given to introspection; Barbara, on the contrary, was whimsical and practical by turns, with a great capacity for enjoyment.The twins had made their debut jointly on their eighteenth birthday, and while both were popular, Barbara had received the greater amount of attention.
Barbara tip-toed into the suite of rooms which the girls occupied over the library, expecting to find Helen lying on the lounge;instead, she found her writing busily at her desk.She tossed down her pen as her sister entered, and, taking up a blotter, carefully laid it across the page she had been writing.
"Thank heaven, I don't have to go to that supper party," Barbara announced, throwing herself full length on the lounge.
"So father gave it up," commented Helen."I am glad.""Gave up nothing," retorted her sister."He and Margaret Brewster are going.""What!" Helen was on her feet."You let them go out alone together?""They can't be alone if they are together," answered Barbara practically."Don't be silly, Helen."Helen did not answer at once; she had grown singularly pale.Walking over to the window she glanced into the street."The car hasn't come," she exclaimed, and consulted her wrist watch."Hurry, Babs, you have just, time to dress and go with them.""B-b-but I said I wouldn't go," stuttered Barbara, completely taken by surprise.
"No matter; tell father you have changed your mind." Helen held out her hand."Come, to please me," and there was a world of wistful appeal in her hazel eyes which Barbara was unable to resist.
It was not until Barbara had completed her hasty toilet and a frantic dash downstairs in time to spring into the waiting limousine after Margaret Brewster, that she realized she had put on one of Helen's evening gowns and not her own.
Benjamin Clymer was standing in the vestibule of the Saratoga, where he made his home, when the McIntyre limousine drew up, and he did not keep them waiting, as Colonel McIntyre had predicted he would on the drive to Clymer's apartment house.
"The clerk gave me your message when I came in, McIntyre," he explained as the car drove off.I called up your residence and Grimes said you were on the way here."Barbara, tucked away in her corner of the limousine, listened to Mrs.Brewster's animated chatter with utter lack of interest; she wished most heartily that she had not been over-persuaded by her sister, and had remained at home.That her father had accepted her lame explanation and her presence in the party with unaffected pleasure had been plain.Mrs.Brewster, after a quiet inquiry regarding her health, had been less enthusiastic in her welcome.
Barbara was just stifling a yawn when the limousine stopped at the entrance to the Caf St.Marks.
Inside the caf all was light and gaiety, and Barbara brightened perceptibly as the attentive head waiter ushered them to the table Colonel McIntyre had reserved earlier in the evening.
"It's a novel idea turning the old church into a caf ," Barbara remarked to Benjamin Clymer."A sort of casting bread upon the waters of famished Washington.I wonder if they ever turn water into wine?""No such luck," groaned Clymer dismally, looking with distaste at the sparkling grape juice being poured into the erstwhile champagne goblet by his plate."The caf is crowded to-night,"and he gazed with interest about the room.Colonel McIntyre, who had loitered behind to speak to several friends at an adjacent table, took the unoccupied seat by Mrs.Brewster and was soon in animated conversation with the widow and Clymer; Barbara, her healthy appetite asserting itself, devoted her entire attention to the delicious delicacies placed before her.The arrival of the after-the-theater crowd awoke her from her abstraction, and she accepted Clymer's invitation to dance with alacrity.When they returned to the table she discovered that Margaret Brewster and her father had also joined the dancers.
Barbara watched them while keeping up a disjointed conversation with Clymer, whose absentminded remarks finally drew Barbara's attention, and she wondered what had come over the generally entertaining banker.It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him the reason for his distrait manner when her thoughts were diverted by his next remark.
"Your father and Mrs.Brewster make a fine couple," he said.
"Colonel McIntyre is the most distinguished looking man in the caf and Mrs.Brewster is a regular beauty."Instead of replying Barbara turned in her seat and scanned her father as he and Mrs.Brewster passed them in the dance.Colonel McIntyre did not look his age of forty-seven years.His hair, prematurely gray, had a most attractive wave to it, and his erect and finely proportioned figure showed to advantage in his well-cut dress suit.Barbara's heart swelled with pride - her dear and handsome father! Then she transferred her regard to Margaret Brewster; she had been such a satisfactory friend - why oh, why did she wish to become her step-mother? The twins, with the unerring instinct of womanhood, had decided ten days before that Weller's warning to his son was timely - Mrs.Brewster was a most dangerous widow.
"How is your sister?" inquired Clymer, breaking the silence which had lasted nearly five minutes.He was never quite certain which twin he was talking to, and generally solved the problem by familiarizing himself with their mode of dress.The plan had not always worked as the twins had a bewildering habit of exchanging clothes, to the enjoyment of Barbara's mischief loving soul, and the mystification of their numerous admirers.
