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Yet
somehow--I don't understand it."
"Exactly," laughed Lispenard. "You can't make a silk purse out of a
sow's ear."
"Lispenard," angrily said Miss De Voe, "Mr. Stirling is as much better
than--"
"That's it," said Lispenard. "Don't think I'm depreciating Peter. The
trouble is that he is much too good a chap to make into a society or a
lady's man."
"I believe you are right. I don't think he cares for it at all."
"No," said Lispenard. "Barkis is not willin'. I think he likes you, and
simply goes to please you."
"Do you really think that's it?"
Lispenard laughed at the earnestness with which the question was asked.
"No," he replied. "I was joking. Peter cultivates you, because he wants
to know your swell friends."
Either this conversation or Miss De Voe's own thoughts, led to a change
in her course. Invitations to formal dinners and to the opera suddenly
ceased, and instead, little family dinners, afternoons in galleries, and
evenings at concerts took their place.


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