CHAPTER XIDora Collier had been Dora Spaulding for more than two years when on a certain December afternoon Hilary Collier closed the little house in Mount Holly and climbed into the Spaulding motor-car, to be swept into town for a long visit with her sister.
She had made short visits before; all sorts of visits. Sometimes the beautiful and radiant Butterfly had swept down upon her in Mount Holly, to envelop her in energetic little arms that were muffled in great furs, or to dazzle her with summer costumes worthy of a princess. And sometimes they had had Hilary for a few nights in the city house; she had visited them for two weeks in Southampton, in the first summer after their marriage, and last summer had made a tour with them through the wonderful New England mountains, and up to the C
