had given them two cocktails apiece and a generous amount of Stephen's champagne. Not one of her guests had reciprocated yet by an invitation of any kind.
The possibility of an empty engagement calendar, the consideration of long stretches of idle days with no climaxes at their ends, filled Stella with alarm. Frightening ghosts of various kinds filtered through the cracks of Stella's bedroom, during this time, woke her up every morning about five, and kept her awake until it was time to get up and dress. The tragic idleness of a certain new gown she had bought in January haunted her day and night. Never had a new dress of hers remained new so long. For three weeks it had hung in the closet, just as it had been lifted from its box. Stella longed to wear the gown. It would make an impression. Now that she could no longer contribute a man to society it was necessary for her to contribute at least an impression. A conspicuous gown could do a lot for a woman at a dance, Stella believed.
"But it can't if it hangs in the closet," she sobbed into her pillow.
3
When Alfred Munn returned from Florida with his horses for another season at the River Club, he put many of Stella's ghosts to flight. He filled her engagement calendar; he provided climaxes to her days; he saw to it that there was never a week when Stella didn't dress up in her best clothes and set out for "a real little party" of some sort somewhere. He broke the back of the worst goblin of all—her
