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The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Teacup Club, by Eliza Armstrong.
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<body>
<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 50751 ***</div>
<h1 class="faux"><i>The</i> Teacup Club</h1>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 510px;">
<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="510" height="800" alt="Cover" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="chapter"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p>
<div class="maintitle"><i>The</i>
Teacup Club</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="chapter"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a><br /><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p>
<div class="bbox">
<div class="maintitle"><i>The</i><br />
Teacup Club</div>
<div class="center"><br /><br />
BY<br />
<span class="author">ELIZA ARMSTRONG</span><br /><br /><br /><br />
</div>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;">
<img src="images/emblem.jpg" width="150" height="160" alt="emblem" />
</div>
<div class="center"><br /><br /><br />
<i>CHICAGO</i><br />
WAY AND WILLIAMS<br />
1897<br />
</div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="chapter"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></p>
<div class="copyright">
COPYRIGHT<br />
WAY AND WILLIAMS<br />
1897<br />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="chapter"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p>
<h2>NOTE</h2>
<p>A portion of the matter in this little book
originally appeared in <i>The New York Journal</i>,
and is used by the courtesy of W. R. Hearst,
Esq.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="chapter"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a><br /><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p>
<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
<div class="center">
<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents">
<tr>
<td align="left" colspan="2"><small>CHAPTER</small></td>
<td align="right"><small>PAGE</small></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="right">I </td>
<td align="left">THE TEACUP CLUB IS FORMED</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="right">II </td>
<td align="left">THE CLUB DISCUSSES WOMAN IN POLITICS</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#Page_39">39</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="right">III </td>
<td align="left">MAN’S REAL ATTITUDE TOWARD THE PROGRESS OF WOMAN</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="right">IV </td>
<td align="left">CONCERNING THE HEROINE OF TO-DAY</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="right">V </td>
<td align="left">THE CLUB SETTLES SOME CURRENCY PROBLEMS</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="right">VI </td>
<td align="left">THE PIONEER NEW WOMAN</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="right">VII </td>
<td align="left">WOMAN IN LEGISLATION</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#Page_159">159</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="right">VIII </td>
<td align="left">AN EXECUTIVE MEETING</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#Page_185">185</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="right">IX </td>
<td align="left">ON THE USE AND ABUSE OF POLITICAL POWER</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#Page_210">210</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="right">X </td>
<td align="left">WOMAN AS A PARLIAMENTARIAN</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#Page_236">236</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="right">XI </td>
<td align="left">THE CLUB INVESTIGATES THEOSOPHY</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#Page_261">261</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td align="right">XII </td>
<td align="left">A DISCUSSION AND A SURPRISE</td>
<td align="right"><a href="#Page_285">285</a></td>
</tr>
</table>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="chapter"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a><br /><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p>
<h2>Chapter I<br />
<small>The Teacup Club is Formed</small></h2>
<p>“You can never be sure of pleasing a
man,” sighed the blue-eyed girl, who was
calling on her dearest friend; “that is, if
you try to please him,” she added reflectively.</p>
<p>“I suppose not,” replied the girl with
the dimple in her chin, “unless you succeed
in concealing from him the fact that
you are trying to please him.”</p>
<p>“H’m; yes, I suppose there is something
in that. However, we ought not to be
hard on the poor things. The whole truth
with the sterner sex is that they are never
really practical. They—”</p>
<p>“How clever you are!” cried the girl
with the dimple in her chin, admiringly.
“Sometimes it does seem a pity that you
are to marry Jack, instead of studying law,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>
or—theosophy or something like that.
Really, a very little study would fit you for
the bar, but of course Jack—”</p>
<p>“I don’t intend to marry Jack,” said
the blue-eyed girl, calmly.</p>
<p>“O, my goodness, does he know that?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know whether he knows that
or not; but he does know that I’ve broken
my engagement with him. I sent back his
ring, and—”</p>
<p>“Dear, dear; that ring must have already
cost its real value in messenger fees alone.
Let me see, how many times have you sent—”</p>
<p>“And you may know that I am in earnest
when I tell you that I am to pour tea for
Nell to-morrow, and everybody will comment
on its absence.”</p>
<p>“Do you want me to come over and
stay with you to-night, dear?” queried the
girl with the dimple in her chin.</p>
<p>“No, thank you, dear. I can just as
well talk it over with you now. Of course
it was Jack’s fault.”</p>
<p>The girl with the dimple in her chin was
silent.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p>
<p>“Well, Emily Marshmallow, I did think
that you, of all people, would sympathize
with me, and—”</p>
<p>“Look here, Dorothy; of course I sympathize
with you, but you remember
when you quarreled with Jack the last
time I—”</p>
<p>“I remember the last time that Jack
quarreled with me,” replied the blue-eyed
girl, with dignity.</p>
<p>“Well, I sympathized violently with you,
and the consequence was that you wouldn’t
speak to me for a month after you made up
with him!”</p>
<p>“O, of course, if you really do sympathize
with me, I—”</p>
<p>“You might know that. But tell me all
about it. Is it that you want a new ring
which is too expensive for anything save a
peace offering? Or is Edwin coming home
on a visit? Or has—”</p>
<p>“Nothing so frivolous, my dear; this is a
serious matter. Jack—that is, Mr. Bittersweet,
joined a new club without even letting
me know that he meant to do it. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>
shouldn’t have minded if he had only told
of it beforehand—”</p>
<p>“Of course not, dear; for then you could
have made him give it up!”</p>
<p>“Exactly. Well, when I did find it out,
I told him that I plainly saw he did not
really love me, and that it was lucky I had
discovered the fact before it was too late!”</p>
<p>“How very original you are!” murmured
the girl with the dimple in her chin.
“Go on, dear.”</p>
<p>“Yes, it is all over and I never was so
hap—happy in my life! Where is my
hand—handkerchief? I—I got s—something
in my eye on the way here, and—”</p>
<p>“Here it is, dear, and let me draw down
the window shade, so the light will not
hurt your poor eye.”</p>
<p>“You needn’t, dear. I saw them coming
up the street a minute or two ago and
all I’ve got to say is, that if Jack Bittersweet
thinks he can make me jealous by
parading up and down with a made-up
thing like Frances, he is very much mistaken!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p>
<p>“I suppose you have coaxed Edwin’s sister
to write and tell him that you have
broken with Jack?” queried the girl with
the dimple in her chin.</p>
<p>“No, I haven’t. I did that last time
and he was so unpleasant after we made
up!”</p>
<p>“Who was unpleasant? Jack?”</p>
<p>“Of course not, goosie. A man is
always nicer than usual just after making
up. No, it was Edwin; he—men are so
awfully selfish, you know! Just because I
was nice to him while I was angry with
Jack, he imagined I had treated him badly—did
you ever hear of such a thing? How
did he ever expect me to bring Jack to his
senses in time for the opera season, without
a little jealousy as an incentive?”</p>
<p>“Well, you know, men are so awfully
vain that he probably thought—”</p>
<p>“That I really liked him? Perhaps he
did. I never thought of that. Still, badly
as he has behaved, I can’t help a kindly
feeling for him. You see, I had such a
lovely new gown for the opera and everybody<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>
knew that I expected to go often,
so—”</p>
<p>“You might even have had to give in
and acknowledge that you were wrong, but
for Edwin!”</p>
<p>“No, dear,” replied the blue-eyed girl,
with great dignity. “Never that. I really
expected to marry Jack, you know, and it
would never have done to establish such a
precedent. How could I ever expect a
happy married life, if I began it by acknowledging
that I could ever be in the
wrong?”</p>
<p>“Very true, dear. By the way, do you
think a peep at my lovely new waist would
do you any good?”</p>
<p>“You seem to have misunderstood me
entirely,” retorted the blue-eyed girl,
severely, “I am feeling quite happy. Indeed,
I don’t know that I ever felt happier
in my life, unless it was the day upon which
I was mistaken for my younger sister!”</p>
<p>“But what are you going to do in regard
to Jack?”</p>
<p>“Why, Emily Marshmallow, how stupid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>
you are to-day! You seem to imagine that
I want to be flattered, like a man, by being
asked to explain things. I told you,
didn’t I? that Jack and I quarreled about
his membership in a new club. Very well,
I too, have decided to join a club!”</p>
<p>“Humph, that isn’t a bad idea. But
what kind of a club? An Ibsen or a Browning
one, I suppose. I notice that men
dislike particularly to have us members of
really intellectual clubs.”</p>
<p>“Well, I did think of either an Ibsen or
a Symphony club, but neither of them just
seemed to suit me, so—well, the fact is
that I’ve decided to found a club of my
own.”</p>
<p>“But even then you can’t always have it
to suit you, because the other members—”</p>
<p>“Oh, yes, I shall dear. You see, I’ll
make all the—the by-laws and resolutions
just as I want them, before I invite any one
to join the club. I think I shall ask Evelyn
to be the president, because she is married
and accustomed already to making somebody
do as she wishes.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p>
<p>“Dear, dear, I’m only afraid that you
are too clever to—”</p>
<p>“Succeed? Not quite so bad as that, I
hope. Now, you see, the chief objection
to Jack’s new club was that he wouldn’t
tell me anything about it. Said he didn’t
know just what its purpose was. As if a
man would join a club without knowing—”</p>
<p>“I begin to see now. You mean to keep
the purpose of your own club a secret,
too?”</p>
<p>“That’s just it, and when Jack hears how
nice it is, he’ll find out that we are a great
deal cleverer than he thinks. I shall make
the membership for life too, so—”</p>
<p>“But you haven’t even told me the purpose
of the club yet.”</p>
<p>“The Advancement of Woman, dear.
Jack hates advanced women and when I
make up with him—”</p>
<p>“But you said a moment ago that you
would never—”</p>
<p>“Good gracious, Emily,” cried the blue-eyed
girl, hastily, “do stop talking a moment
and let me get in a word edgewise:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>
I’ve been trying for half an hour to get a
chance to ask you where the new waist you
offered to show me, is, and I can’t—”</p>
<p>“Here it is in my wardrobe and isn’t it a
dream? You may try it on, if you like.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, dear; but no. I care so
little for such frivolities, now that I have
come to enjoy the real intellectual life.
Did you ever see such darling sleeves? It
does seem that a girl who could not be
happy in them must—”</p>
<p>“Have at least a boil on her chin! Yes,
doesn’t it? But really, Dorothy, you make
me ashamed of caring so much for such
vanities. Why, those very sleeves cost me
two whole nights’ rest!”</p>
<p>“Never mind about that, dear; we can’t
all be intellectual. Look here, Emily
Marshmallow, if you’ll promise never to
breathe it as long as you live, I’ll tell you
the last mean thing that Frances—”</p>
<p>“Oh, do! She has a new gown that
would arouse the envy of Dr. Mary Walker.
All chiffon, spangles, embroidery and—”</p>
<p>“I know. My story has reference to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>
that very gown. You know how very mysterious
she always is about her new things!”</p>
<p>“M’hm. As if anybody cared to know
about them! Do tell me if her waist is
made—”</p>
<p>“Well, I—you see, it was this way: I
knew she was having her new gown made
at Madame’s, and I accidentally discovered
that she was to be fitted on Friday at two.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I see. Then, you called upon
Frances at one o’clock, thinking that she’d
take you along, rather than risk offending
Madame by being late?”</p>
<p>“No; Frances isn’t afraid of Madame—she
doesn’t owe her anything. I just happened
in at Madame’s at half-past two.
They told me she was busy, but I said I
knew she wouldn’t mind if I stepped into
the fitting-room for a minute, as I had a
letter from Paris and wanted to tell her all
about the new skirts.”</p>
<p>“Oh, you clever thing!”</p>
<p>“Yes. So in I bounced, and there stood
Frances, all in billowy waves of turquoise
blue and—”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p>
<p>“But I thought her new gown was green
and white, with—”</p>
<p>“And you should have seen how sweetly
she smiled. So sweetly that I knew she
was wild with rage!”</p>
<p>“But did you make it right with the Madame?
Did—”</p>
<p>“Pretended that I must have left the
Paris letter at home, and told her I’d fetch
it the next day. Then, after a good, long
look at Frances, I came away and—”</p>
<p>“And ran in to tell all the other girls
how her new gown was made?”</p>
<p>“M’hm. Annie first: you know, she
hasn’t a bit of originality and she said, at
once, that she’d have her new one just like
it. Then, I dropped in at Evelyn’s tea
and—”</p>
<p>“Told all the others, too. M’hm.”</p>
<p>“Yes. But what do you think that cat,
Frances, had done? She’d been there before
me and told them all that I had come
into the fitting-room out of sheer curiosity—I
curious, the idea! And the gown she
was trying on was not her own, after all,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
she said, but one about which Madame had
asked her opinion and—”</p>
<p>“Gracious, do you suppose that was the
truth?”</p>
<p>“Alas, I know it;” groaned the blue-eyed
girl, “it belonged to Jack’s sister,
Effie! Now, Effie detests Annie and when
she sees her in a gown which is an exact reproduction
of her own, she will—”</p>
<p>“Won’t she, though? Well, my dear,
Effie was an unknown quantity before, but
now you may depend upon one thing—she
will use any influence she may have with
Jack against you.”</p>
<p>“True. And all because of such a silly
thing, too! But, then, people are so
frivolous. Well, you will join my new
club, won’t you?”</p>
<p>“Mercy, yes. You had better invite
Frances, too; she will tell Effie all about it,
and the first time Effie is offended with
Jack, she will tell him, thinking to annoy
you both—”</p>
<p>“I shall, though it is hardly necessary,
either, for, once started, everybody will talk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>
of nothing else. But, whatever you do,
don’t tell Dick a word about it. Evelyn’s
husband is sure to tell him, anyhow, and
then he can’t say that women never keep
secrets.”</p>
<p>“What utter nonsense. Of course women
can keep secrets! Why, I once knew a
girl intimately for two whole years and in
all that time she never told me that her
curls were false. I wouldn’t have known
it to this day, if I hadn’t walked into her
room one day when she had washed them
and hung them up to dry. I’ve told that
story to a dozen men, and I’ve never
yet found one of them magnanimous
enough to acknowledge that it proved my
point!”</p>
<p>“You can’t prove anything to a man,
dear, unless he wants it proved. Well, I
must go. You’ll not fail me at the first
meeting of the Teacup club, then?”</p>
<p>“The Teacup club,” said the girl with
the dimple in her chin, disappointedly,
“Why I thought it was to be a really intellectual
club, and—”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p>
<p>“So it is. But, you know, real merit is
always modest. If a lot of men get up
such a thing, they give it a six-syllabled
name; but we wish to evade, rather than
seek, notoriety and, besides, as I said before,
once we get it started, the whole town
will talk of nothing else!”</p>
<p>It fell upon a bright sunshiny day, and
the meeting for the organization of the Teacup
club was well attended.</p>
<p>“And all the girls are wearing their newest
gowns, too,” whispered the blue-eyed
girl to the girl with the dimple in her chin,
“that shows that they appreciate the importance
of the undertaking.”</p>
<p>“And what an awfully becoming hat you
are wearing,” said the girl with the dimple
in her chin. “If I owned such a milliner’s
dream I should not mind anything that
could happen to me.”</p>
<p>“Which means that you have something
unpleasant to tell me,” said the blue-eyed
girl. “You need not be uneasy,” she added,
“I’ll not move a muscle, for Frances is
looking this way.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p>
<p>“Well, then, I heard her tell Nell that
Jack comes to her almost every day for
sympathy and—”</p>
<p>“Humph. When a man says ‘sympathy’
he means flattery! Is that all?”</p>
<p>“All? Why I thought—”</p>
<p>“Yes, dear. You see, I thought perhaps
you had stronger proof than her own assertion.
Why, Frances, dear, how well you
are looking to-day! I have not seen you
for such an age that I thought you must be
out of town.”</p>
<p>“Has it seemed so long to you, dear?”
returned the brown-eyed blonde. “Now, to
me the days go so swiftly that, as I sometimes
tell Ja—Mr. Bittersweet, I mean—I
often forget whether it is Saturday or
Monday!”</p>
<p>“So you have seen the poor fellow, have
you?” returned the blue-eyed girl, with an
angelic smile; “it is so good of you to console
him. But, indeed, you are always
good about such things and so modest
about it, too, that but for the men themselves,
we should never know how hard you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>
work just to induce them to come and be
comforted!”</p>
<p>“I—why,—I—” stammered the brown-eyed
blonde.</p>
<p>“Yes, indeed, I was defending you only
the other day. I was quite angry with
Marion for saying that your house should
be called ‘An Asylum for the Rejected.’
I was so indignant that I just told her that,
for my part, I thought we all ought to be
grateful to you for consoling the poor fellows
and helping to keep them out of mischief
when they are feeling so badly. I reminded
her, too, that you must do it out
of pure philanthropy—for you never seem
to get anything out of it. Really, I never
saw you looking quite so well; you have
such a fine color and—oh, here is Evelyn,
at last, and we can call the meeting to
order!”</p>
<p>“Why, Evelyn is wearing her old gown,”
cried the girl with the classic profile, “I
call that downright mean! I had thought
I could get such a good chance to study the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>
draping of it while she was on the platform.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps, that is why she didn’t wear
it,” returned the girl with the eyeglasses.
“Mercy, is it me they are calling to order?
Why, didn’t you tell me before; I—”</p>
<p>“Dear me, girls,” the little woman on
the platform was saying, “I don’t know
that I ought to be president. It seems to
me that we should have an election or
something.”</p>
<p>“That is not necessary,” said the blue-eyed
girl, “don’t you remember? I asked
you to be president, in the first place. But
if you’d rather, I’ll move that you are to
be the chief officer, and Emily, here, will
second the motion, won’t you Emily?”</p>
<p>“Why, yes of course,” said the girl with
the dimple in her chin.</p>
<p>“That does seem more regular,” said the
little woman on the platform, in a relieved
tone. “I wonder if I ought to make a
speech of acceptance?”</p>
<p>“Not unless you choose;” said the blue-eyed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>
girl, “harmony is the chief study of
this club, and—”</p>
<p>“Oh, if it is to be a club for the study of
harmony, I can’t join;” said the girl with
the eyeglasses, “I don’t know a thing
about music and—”</p>
<p>“I’m afraid you have not been paying
attention,” said the blue-eyed girl, severely.
“The club is organized for the advancement
of woman and I don’t know a girl
anywhere who would be more benefited by
it than yourself. By the way, Evelyn, I suppose
we ought to assess dues, or something.
I know that Ja—I mean a man I know—is
always talking about dues at his clubs.”</p>
<p>“Oh, but this is to be entirely different
from a man’s club,” said the president,
“and, then, what is the use of assessing
dues, anyhow?”</p>
<p>“We might give the money to charity,”
suggested the girl with the classic profile.</p>
<p>“Oh, well, if we did that, why not let
each of us give what she wants to charity
and be done with it?” said the girl with the
eyeglasses.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p>
<p>“Yes, of course,” said the president;
“dear me, I had no idea that it was so easy
to organize a club, or I’d have done it long
ago. It isn’t half as much trouble as giving
a tea and you don’t run any risk of
offending people by forgetting to invite
them and then having to convince them
that the card was lost in the mails.”</p>
<p>“Talking of teas,” said the girl with the
Roman nose, “I—”</p>
<p>“Pardon me,” said the president, gently,
“but if this is a club for the advancement
of woman, ought we to talk about
teas?”</p>
<p>“But you began it, yourself,” said the
girl with the Roman nose, “I only—”</p>
<p>“I think I said merely that the club is
ever so much nicer than a tea,” said the
president.</p>
<p>“And so it is,” said the blue-eyed girl,
“though, by the way, Nell’s last one was
lovely—there were enough men present to
amuse us, whereas—”</p>
<p>“There are usually so few that they have
to be amused, lest they get lonesome,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>
broke in the brown-eyed blonde. “Oh,
girls, have you heard that Clarissa—”</p>
<p>“Oughtn’t we to be attending to business,”
said the girl with the Roman nose,
“instead of talking about Clarissa? I saw
her myself only an hour ago and if there
was anything exciting to tell, she would
have—”</p>
<p>“But this <i>has</i> a connection with the
club,” insisted the brown-eyed blonde.
“She wants to become a member!”</p>
<p>“She just can’t be anything of the
kind,” said the blue-eyed girl, “the idea!
A girl whose reputation for intellectuality
rests upon the careless combing of her hair
and a habit of wearing hats six months behind
the mode.”</p>
<p>“But how can we get out of it, if she
says she wants to join?” said the president,
with an anxious air.</p>
<p>“Tell her that one of the rules of the club
is that no person over the age of twenty-two
years can become a member,” suggested
the girl with the dimple in her
chin; “she celebrated her twenty-third<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>
birthday about a week ago, you remember.”</p>
<p>“But it isn’t one of the rules,” objected
the brown-eyed blonde.</p>
<p>“Then, we can make it a rule, right
now,” said the blue-eyed girl, calmly. “I
know just how it would be if we let Clarissa
into the club—she’d insist upon having
everything her own way right along. I
hate such selfishness myself, and—”</p>
<p>“So do I,” said the president; “by the
way, oughtn’t we to make a note of that
rule, at once?”</p>
<p>“What would be the use of that?” said
the girl with the dimple in her chin, “we
have all heard it. Oh, girls, I already see
the benefit we are to derive from the influence
of this club! Not a single soul has
said a word in regard to Clarissa’s pretentions
to being only twenty-three!”</p>
<p>“Why, that’s true,” cried the president,
“and very considerate of us it was, too,
when we all know how ridiculous it is!”</p>
<p>“Oh, girls, I must tell you something,”
cried the girl with the eyeglasses. “I went<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>
with Clarissa to a reception given by her
literary club the other evening and it was
simply awful!”</p>
<p>“Not a decent toilet in the room, of
course,” said the brown-eyed blonde.</p>
<p>“Oh, I didn’t expect that—I knew it
was a culture club. It seems that there
had been an awful time over the programme.
Some of the members wanted to
have an Ibsen evening, while others declared
for Browning. Finally, they decided
upon a mixed programme, selections from
them both, you know. I did not know
that when I went.”</p>
<p>“I should think not,” said the girl with
the Roman nose, “otherwise, you—”</p>
<p>“Would gladly have accepted the invitation—and
been suddenly taken ill on the
appointed day, of course. Well, when the
papers and selections were being read, I
studied my programme to keep my eyes
from those appalling coiffures, and when I
saw the word ‘Music’ on it, I felt like a
person who has found an oasis in a desert!”</p>
<p>“And had you?” queried the president,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>
who had left the platform and joined the
group about the narrator.</p>
<p>“No. They played something from
Wagner!”</p>
<p>“And you?” said the girl with the classic
profile.</p>
<p>“Oh, I was in a comatose condition by
that time. Nothing mattered. After the
interminable programme they served refreshments.”</p>
<p>“You felt better then?” said the girl
with the dimple in her chin.</p>
<p>“No, I didn’t. They had tea and wafers!
Tea and wafers after Ibsen, Browning and
Wagner! And then Clarissa vanished and
I couldn’t get away. The people present
were all very distinguished; one of the
members had written an epic poem which
would have appeared in Harper’s if it had
not been lost in the mails; one of them had
invented a rational dress for men and another
had once been asked to deliver a
lecture upon ‘Thought Transference’
before a mothers’ meeting at an orphan
asylum!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p>
<p>“My goodness, no wonder you wanted
to go home!” cried the brown-eyed blonde.</p>
<p>“I did—badly. By and by, while I was
wandering about the rooms in search of
Clarissa, I found a woman who looked as
unhappy as I felt. I was afraid to speak
to her, lest she be somebody very remarkable,
but she asked me, timidly, if I was
the lady who had actually worn a rainy day
dress, in public. I assured her that I was
not, and after that we got on famously.”</p>
<p>“But who was she?” the president asked.</p>
<p>“I don’t know her name, but after we
had discussed Ibsen and Browning a little,
I asked what she had done. She replied,
modestly: ‘Oh, I am the person who always
read the Woman’s page in the daily papers!’
After that, we talked just like ordinary
people, and I didn’t see Clarissa when
she came to look for me!”</p>
<p>“My goodness, girls, we really ought not
to laugh so,” said the girl with the Roman
nose, “because this club is devoted to the
advancement of woman, and—”</p>
<p>“That is entirely different,” said the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>
president. “Did Ibsen, Browning or Wagner
ever do anything for the advancement
of woman, I’d like to know?”</p>
<p>“Of course not,” said the blue-eyed girl,
promptly. “How very absurd!”</p>
<p>“Besides, our club is laid out on entirely
new lines,” said the girl with the dimple in
her chin.</p>
<p>“Yes, isn’t it?” returned the president;
“Oh, girls, I quite forgot to tell you that
we shall have to pay rent for this room if
we hold our meetings here, and we haven’t
made any provision for paying it.”</p>
<p>“But what is the use of making provision,
when it isn’t due yet?” asked the blue-eyed
girl.</p>
<p>“Why—er, that is very true,” said the
president; “I only wish I was as good a
business woman as you!”</p>
<p>“Oh, I often feel that I have a great
deal to learn yet,” said the blue-eyed girl,
modestly. “By the way, Evelyn, what did
your husband say when you told him that
you had decided to join a club?”</p>
<p>“He said—Oh, girls, I’m almost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>
ashamed to tell you, but then Tom is
only a man, after all. He said: ‘Then,
may the Lord have mercy upon my
wretched digestion!’”</p>
<p>“As if women had nothing to do but
cook and keep house! when lots of us
know nothing about either of them,” said
the girl with the classic profile, indignantly.
“Girls, I wonder why it is that if a woman
studies law or anything like that, somebody
is sure to say that she is going outside of
her sphere, while nobody thinks anything
of the kind if a man becomes a chef or invents
a food for infants?”</p>
<p>“Oh, if you expect logic from a man!”
said the president, shrugging her shoulders;
“however, I expected it, too, before I was
married. I know better now.”</p>
<p>“Dear, dear, isn’t the Advancement of
Woman delightful?” cried the girl with the
eyeglasses. “After this, when we want to
know anything, we needn’t go to the
trouble of looking it up in the dictionary or
the encyclopædia; we can just discuss it at
the club, and—”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p>
<p>“Why do you bother with those horrid
books? I never do,” said the girl with the
dimple in her chin. “They are so heavy
and always dusty, too. Now, I just ask
the nearest man what I want to know. If
he happens to be wrong, I can always cite
my authority and it gives the next man a
double pleasure in setting me right.”</p>
<p>“What a clever thing you are,” said the
girl with the eyeglasses; “you always make
me think of what somebody said about er—Juliet,
I think: ‘To know her is a liberal
education.’”</p>
<p>“Oh, that is nothing. Why, I know a
Vassar girl who has studied Greek and all
that sort of thing and she invariably misspells
several simple words whenever she
writes to a man, so he may think himself so
much cleverer than her and—”</p>
<p>“And I know a girl who asks every man,
the first time she meets him, to explain
the Australian ballot system. You see,
it is a thing they all have to know, so
they—”</p>
<p>“Goodness me, I should think she would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>
get awfully tired of the answer,” said the
president.</p>
<p>“She does. She told me not long ago
that she really must invent a new stock
question, for she could hardly keep from
yawning now, while—”</p>
<p>“Speaking of yawning,” broke in the
brown-eyed blonde, “Teddy Crœsus
doesn’t send Molly flowers or bonbons
any more!”</p>
<p>“I don’t see what that has to do with
yawning,” said the girl with the Roman
nose.</p>
<p>“More than you may think, dear. You
know Molly always asks a man if a premonition
of danger has ever been the means
of saving his life. She doesn’t ask it the
first time they meet, but saves it for some
special occasion. Well, one evening at a
reception, Teddy seemed disposed to talk
to Florence too much, and Molly asked him
the question then, because she knew—”</p>
<p>“That he would stay with her as long as
she allowed him to talk about himself! Yes,
of course,” said the blue-eyed girl.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p>
<p>“M’hm. Well, he was in the midst of a
long story about how he once escaped from
being in a railroad wreck by missing his train.
Molly was listening with breathless interest
when she saw Florence stop within two
feet of her. She couldn’t resist one
glance of triumph and that glance was her
ruin.”</p>
<p>“It was? Did he look up just then and
remember Flo—”</p>
<p>“No, dear. But just as Molly looked at
her, she gave a mighty yawn. Well, you
know, yawning is contagious and Molly had
been at a ball the night before, so she
yawned, too. Teddy’s eyes were on her
and—”</p>
<p>“And now Florence gets his violets and
bonbons! Well, isn’t that a story without
a moral?” cried the girl with the eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“It certainly is,” groaned the president.
“Well, girls, I fear we must adjourn,
though it is hard to break up such an intellectual
talk. For my part, I shall go back
to the petty cares of life with renewed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>
energy after a breath of air from a higher
plane.”</p>
<p>“I, too,” said the girl with the Roman
nose, “I feel now as if petty gossip and
scandal could never interest me again.”</p>
<p>The president and the blue-eyed girl had
walked four blocks, when the former suddenly
stopped.</p>
<p>“There, I knew I had forgotten something,”
she cried; “at first, I thought it
was only to order dinner, but now I remember
that I did not suggest a topic for discussion
at our next meeting!”</p>
<p>“Oh, pshaw, that makes no difference,”
said the blue-eyed girl, “nobody would
have had time to prepare anything for it, if
you had; there is so much going on in our
set this week, and—”</p>
<p>“Very true,” replied the president, “and
all the members are so much interested in
intellectual topics, anyhow, that they are
quite prepared to discuss them extemporaneously
as we did to-day.”</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="chapter"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p>
<h2>Chapter II<br />
<small>The Club Discusses Woman in Politics</small></h2>
<p>The Teacup club was called to order fifteen
minutes before the appointed time at
its second meeting. “We are all here,
you know, and there is no use in waiting,”
observed the president, as she rapped for
order with a jeweled hatpin.</p>
<p>“Hear, hear,” said the girl with the
Roman nose, who had been reading up in
parliamentary usage.</p>
<p>“I am so glad to see you all here,” said
the president, “I was afraid that Effie’s
luncheon might—”</p>
<p>“Keep some of us away? Not from this
club,” said the girl with the classic profile.
“I believe she chose the day just on purpose
to break up the meeting, so I declined
her invitation.”</p>
<p>“Did you?” said the girl with the Roman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
nose, “I didn’t. Effie is not popular
enough to offer her guests badly cooked
food, so I went and excused myself as soon
as we rose from the table on the plea that I
should be late for the club if I remained
longer.”</p>
<p>“I wish I might have seen Effie when
you said that,” remarked the girl with the
eyeglasses. “However, your turn came
when the door closed after you.”</p>
<p>“I think not, dear,” said the girl with
the Roman nose, calmly, “Effie is not
yet distinctly engaged to my cousin
Clarence, so—”</p>
<p>“She has to be on decent terms with his
family! I might have thought of that,”
said the girl with the eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“If they had been married, now of course
I shouldn’t have dared to do it, but—”</p>
<p>“I should think not. Oh, girls, speaking
of what happens after the door closes,
makes me think of what happened to Effie
herself once. It was just after the affair
with Teddy Crœsus, you know.”</p>
<p>“The time she thought to make people<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>
believe she was engaged to him, and took
him to dine with her grandmother—”</p>
<p>“And her grandmother failed to understand
the situation and congratulated them!
Indeed, I do,” cried the girl with the
Roman nose, “although, on account of
being her dearest friend, I failed to hear
it until two days after everybody else
had.”</p>
<p>“Well, you know she went to a breakfast
at Nell’s a few days after that,” went
on the girl with the eyeglasses, “and left
early. As she reached the corner, she remembered
a message for Nell and went back
to deliver it. She burst into the room unannounced
and found all the girls talking at
once.”</p>
<p>“About her, of course! What did—”</p>
<p>“Yes. Any other girl would have known
that, but Effie said: ‘Oh, girls, do tell me
all about it; what has happened?’”</p>
<p>“Well?”</p>
<p>“And it was so sudden that not one of
them could think of a thing to say until she
had flounced out in a rage!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p>
<p>“The moral is: Never go back after once
saying good-by,” said the president.</p>
<p>“True,” said the brown-eyed blonde,
“by the way, Dorothy, why weren’t you
at Effie’s to-day?”</p>
<p>“I fancy my invitation was lost in the
mail,” replied the blue-eyed girl. “I shall
mention it to Effie as soon as I see her, so
she will not feel that I’ve slighted her intentionally.
Why, Frances, dear, did those
mean things let you sit all through luncheon
with the end of your, ah—detachable hair
showing and a dab of powder on your nose?
How mean and envious some people are!”</p>
<p>“I—I think it is cooler over on the other
side,” panted the brown-eyed blonde, “and
besides I must see Emily a minute.”</p>
<p>“Why, Dorothy, you must have just
heard something awfully nice, you look so
happy and smiling,” said the girl with the
classic profile, “but really this delightful
club is making us all amiable.”</p>
<p>“Yes, isn’t it?” said the blue-eyed girl,
“I couldn’t be really mean to anybody
now, if I tried.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p>
<p>“Excuse me for interrupting you, girls,”
said the president, “but I want to announce
our topic for discussion, and if I don’t do
it at once I may forget it. Suppose we
choose “Woman as a Political Factor?”
That is a broad enough field even for us,
and—”</p>
<p>“So it is,” said the girl with the eyeglasses.
“Well, I know one thing—whenever
a woman really knows what she wants
in a political line, she gets it.”</p>
<p>“She does—and has ever since Eve held
that first caucus with the serpent in the
garden,” said the girl with the dimple in
her chin.</p>
<p>“Hear, hear!” cried the girl with the
Roman nose, who had been furtively consulting
her book on parliamentary usage.
“Oh, girls, have you heard that the man
Nell expects to marry is a politician?”</p>
<p>“No; but it seems a very suitable
match,” said the president, “for I don’t
know a girl anywhere who can shake hands
as gracefully as she does.”</p>
<p>“Dear me, Evelyn, how generous you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>
are,” said the girl with the eyeglasses. “I
believe you could find something nice to
say about everybody.”</p>
<p>“I really believe I could,” said the president,
modestly, “and, after all, it is easy
enough, for if you don’t like the subject of
your remarks, you can always say it in such
a tone that it does more harm than good.”</p>
<p>“You are so just,” sighed the girl with
the classic profile, “and yet, men always
declare there is no real fellowship among
women!”</p>
<p>“They confuse their own wish with the
true state of affairs,” said the girl with the
dimple in her chin. “They know that one
woman is often more than a match for the
whole male sex and when a number of
women band together they—”</p>
<p>“Usually get more than they want,”
said the president. “I often wonder,
though, why it is always so much easier to
convince other men that you are in the
right than it is to persuade the men of your
own family?”</p>
<p>“Perhaps we put it in a more flattering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>
way to strangers,” suggested the girl with
the dimple in her chin, “we just can’t
help it, though, for we can’t always
be—”</p>
<p>“Looking up?” said the girl with the
Roman nose. “Of course not—if we were
our necks would grow so stiff that—”</p>
<p>“We could never see our own boots; besides,
we would be such frights that no man
would look at us and so—”</p>
<p>“It would do no good in the end,” finished
the blue-eyed girl. “Still, I sometimes
fancy, after all, that it might be well
to be as nice to papa and the boys as I am
to the men I dance with!”</p>
<p>“My goodness,” said the girl with the
dimple in her chin, “we must be getting
into metaphysics now! I’m not quite sure
as to what metaphysics may be, so I always
conclude that everything I don’t understand
must—”</p>
<p>“Be metaphysics? Do you? For my
part, I always confuse metaphysics with
hydraulics, though there is some difference
between them I know,” said the brown-eyed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>
blonde. “Let us ask Evelyn to explain
them right now. She—”</p>
<p>“Some other time, dear;” said the president,
hastily. “You know we are discussing
Woman in Politics to-day and—”</p>
<p>“It would be unparliamentary to discuss
anything else,” said the girl with the
Roman nose.</p>
<p>The president looked at her gratefully.</p>
<p>“What a logical mind you have, dear,”
she said. “I only wish you could be with
me sometimes when Tom comes home late
from his club. I know that there are all
sorts of flaws in the stories he tells me, but
somehow I never find them until after he
has given me money and I’ve kissed him
and made up.”</p>
<p>“What a pity,” sighed the girl with the
Roman nose, “for if you found out the real
flimsiness of his stories sooner, you could
get more money.”</p>
<p>“Oh, dear, so I could,” wailed the president,
“it is an awful thing to have a husband
and not a logical mind!”</p>
<p>“So it is,” said the girl with the Roman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>
nose, “but, Evelyn, don’t tell anybody
your opinion of me, for if you do, it may
end in my having a logical mind and no
husband, which is worse!”</p>
<p>“Oh, isn’t this beautiful!” cried the girl
with the eyeglasses, suddenly. “Really,
girls, I am so stupid—that is not stupid as
compared to a man, of course, but to the
rest of you—that I wonder you allow me
to belong to the club!” and there were
tears in her eyes as she spoke.</p>
<p>The president came down from the platform
and kissed her.</p>
<p>“Stupid! the idea of a girl with such a
genius for hairdressing being stupid,” she
cried.</p>
<p>“And that girl a chafing-dish cook whose
Welsh rarebits are sometimes successful,
too!” cried the brown-eyed blonde.</p>
<p>“Oh! speaking of chafing-dish cookery,”
said the girl with the dimple in her chin.
“You know that Annie used to be engaged
to Eustace, don’t you?”</p>
<p>“Yes. But what has that to do with
chafing-dish cookery?” said the girl with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>
the Roman nose. “Girls, I have the loveliest
recipe for making—”</p>
<p>“It has a great deal to do with it.
When he married Claire, Annie just smiled
and selected a chafing-dish as a wedding
present. She knew that Eustace was a
confirmed dyspeptic and that Claire’s hands
are so pretty that she could not possibly
resist an opportunity to display them, so
she would cook all sorts of dishes and—”</p>
<p>“By the way, I hear that they have
agreed to separate,” said the president. “I
met Claire on the way to the manicure the
other day. I wonder where Eustace is?”</p>
<p>“He is in a sanitarium,” replied the girl
with the dimple in her chin, “the doctor
thinks he will have to be taken into court
on a stretcher when the divorce proceedings
come up!”</p>
<p>“And yet you told me the other day that
Annie had no originality; I’ve learned this
since then,” whispered the girl with the
dimple in her chin to the blue-eyed girl.</p>
<p>“I only meant in the matter of gowns,
dear,” was the apologetic reply. “By the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>
way, Frances seems not quite herself, to-day.”</p>
<p>“I’ve noticed that. I fancied you might
have said something to her which—”</p>
<p>“Oh, never; why, I consider Frances
one of my dearest friends—”</p>
<p>“I know that, dear. But what is the
use of a friend, if you can’t be disagreeable
to her sometimes?”</p>
<p>“True. I sometimes think it is one reason
that married women keep their friends
longer. They have husbands to—”</p>
<p>“Act as lightning rods and carry off their
displeasure! Yes; it must really be quite
a convenience.”</p>
<p>“Very likely. Don’t you feel, after all,
that Jack—”</p>
<p>“Jack? Oh, I suppose you mean Mr.
Bittersweet! No, I don’t feel any such
thing, Emily Marshmallow, and you are no
friend of mine if you champion him after
the way he has behaved to me!”</p>
<p>“I—I was only going to mention that he
had resigned from that new club. He told
me so himself.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p>
<p>“Oh, he has, has he? Well, isn’t that
just like a man? And after he had paid all
his dues for a year in advance, too, and
gotten nothing out of it!”</p>
<p>“Perhaps he—he did it hoping to please
you, dear.”</p>
<p>“His actions are perfectly indifferent to
me, I assure you. Besides, if I made up
with him to-morrow, Frances would always
think I was jealous. I jealous of her—the
idea! And, oh, Emily, the way he—he
flirts with that girl is enough to b—break
my heart!”</p>
<p>“If you two girls have anything interesting
to say, I wish you would say it
aloud,” broke in the president. “Of course
I am not curious, but some of the others
may—”</p>
<p>“Nothing at all interesting,” said the
blue-eyed girl, promptly; “I—I was just
telling Emily that this club seems the one
thing needed to fill my cup of happiness to
overflowing!”</p>
<p>“And mine!” said the girl with the
Roman nose. “By the way, isn’t it too<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>
provoking that curls are coming in again,
just as veils are going out!”</p>
<p>“And just at the windiest season of the
year, too,” wailed the brown-eyed blonde.
“Really, I often think that the fashions are
invented by men—they are so contrary!”</p>
<p>“Pardon me,” said the president, “I did
not quite catch what you were saying, because
Emily and Marion were both talking
at the same time. It seems to me that
since I have been married, I can’t follow
even two conversations simultaneously, as
I used.”</p>
<p>“Speaking of that,” said the girl with
the eyeglasses, “who do you tell your
secrets to now that you are married?”</p>
<p>“Why, I’ve hit on a splendid plan,”
cried the president, “when I feel that I
must just tell a secret or die—and I often
feel that way—I wait until Tom is asleep
and repeat the whole story in his ear. It
relieves my mind and does no harm.”</p>
<p>“Don’t be too sure of that,” said the
girl with the dimple in her chin. “My sister
Helen doesn’t agree with you at all. You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>
mentioned it to her the other day and she
thought it clever, and resolved to emulate
your wisdom, so she tried it on her husband,
and he wasn’t asleep, only pretending.”</p>
<p>“But I always test my husband with a
question or two, first,” said the president.</p>
<p>“So did Helen. She asked him if he
could fail to see how much she needed a
new bonnet and wanted to know how much
his share of the alumni banquet amounted
to. He only snored in reply, and of course
she thought she was safe and repeated the
secret.”</p>
<p>“With the result?” queried the blue-eyed
girl, who was listening, breathless.</p>
<p>“That it was all over his club the next
day,” said the girl with the dimple in her
chin. “It would not have made any difference,”
she added, soberly, “only the secret
was a rather clever trick I had played on
Dick a few days before—and he belongs to
the same club!”</p>
<p>“And yet they say a man can keep a
secret!” said the girl with the Roman
nose.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p>
<p>“Who says so?” queried the girl with
the eyeglasses. “Other men? Oh! I
didn’t know but that you had heard some
woman say so.”</p>
<p>“Not unless a man was listening, dear,
and that man a person whom—”</p>
<p>“She wished to flatter immensely!”</p>
<p>“Yes. Or who happened to know some
of her own secrets! Girls, I’ve been wondering
what on earth Annie sees in that
horrid Fred Van Stupid? Now, I can understand
the interest a girl takes in a brainless
man who has a great deal of money,
because then—”</p>
<p>“He is exposed to so many temptations
and her influence is sure to do him good,”
finished the girl with the dimple in her
chin, “for my part, I always let Ned Goldie
come to see me oftener than usual during
Lent. I feel that I am really doing some
good and—”</p>
<p>“Violets are an absolute necessity then
and they are so dear that very few men can
afford to present them in quantities.”</p>
<p>“Oh, of course I let him bring me flowers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>
if he wants to—it is so much better for
him to spend his money in that way than
to lose it at poker, that I feel quite a missionary.”</p>
<p>“H’m; I don’t know about that, dear,
though it’s very lovely of you to feel so,”
sighed the president, “the fact is, that you
are actually encroaching on what is really
my violet money. Ned will play poker
with my husband at the club at other seasons
of the year, when he is not allowed to
see much of you. He always loses and I
make Tom divide his winnings with me,
so—”</p>
<p>There was a look of high resolve upon the
face of the girl with the dimple in her chin.</p>
<p>“After this, I shall make him bring me
twice as many, so I can divide with you,”
she said, sweetly. “Oh, no, don’t thank
me; I do so love to feel that I am doing
some good in the world and I do so disapprove
of games of chance!”</p>
<p>“You haven’t made up your mind as to
whether you will accept him or not, have
you?” queried the brown-eyed blonde.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p>
<p>“Not yet, dear. His chances and Dick’s
are about even, at present. Of course he
doesn’t know that, though; I couldn’t
exert such a good influence over him, if he
was sure one way or the other.”</p>
<p>“True,” sighed the president. “Oh,
girls, I don’t know why men are so much
more willing to be influenced for good before
they are married than after. You may
be sure of one thing though, Emily; he
will say horrid things about you, if you
finally do refuse him.”</p>
<p>“No doubt,” said the girl with the dimple
in her chin, “but when one tries to do
good in this world, one can not begin to
count the cost.”</p>
<p>“Oh, Emily Marshmallow, what an angel
you are!” cried the blue-eyed girl, kissing
her. “You are always so busy doing good
to others, that you never seem to give yourself
a thought!”</p>
<p>The brown-eyed blonde had by this time
quite recovered her equanimity and was
chatting, in low tones, with the girl who
wore the eyeglasses.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p>
<p>“Poor, dear Dorothy is looking rather ill,
isn’t she?” she remarked, after a while.</p>
<p>“Why, I hadn’t noticed it before, but
now that you speak of it, she does. However,
she can’t expect to look young
always. By the way, I hear that she has
quarreled with Jack Bittersweet again.”</p>
<p>“Has she seen him lately? I didn’t
know that she had,” returned the brown-eyed
blonde, smiling affectionately into the
mirror.</p>
<p>“Your hair is looking lovely to-day,” returned
the girl with the eyeglasses. “Look
here, Frances, do, like a dear, tell me all
about the quarrel. You know all about it,
of course, and I’ll not tell a soul. You
know how well I can keep a secret and, besides,
you owe it to me, for you wouldn’t
have known a thing about Fred and Clarissa
but for me!”</p>
<p>“But I hadn’t a thing to do about the
quarrel, oh, really now I hadn’t. Of
course, people think it was all on my account
but—why, I was in Omaha when I
heard of it.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p>
<p>“By the way you came back from Omaha
earlier than you expected, didn’t you?”</p>
<p>“I—no; that is only a week earlier.
How well Jack looks, doesn’t he? And
what a flow of spirits he has.”</p>
<p>“Is it possible? Now, Effie says that he
is as cross as a bear. But, then, Effie is
his sister, so—”</p>
<p>“What she says is of no consequence.
Well, since you know so much already, I
may as well tell you the rest. I fear that
it is Dorothy’s insane jealousy of me which
made the trouble. Of course I have not a
spark of vanity, but I can’t help seeing—”</p>
<p>“But I heard that the quarrel was over
Jack’s membership in a new club.”</p>
<p>“That might have been, dear, but people
that are engaged don’t always quarrel over
the real bone of contention. Of course, I
only hope I really had nothing to do with
it; I have so many such things on my conscience
already that I don’t want any
more,” and she sighed softly.</p>
<p>“Yes, but tell me about the quarrel, do.”</p>
<p>“Well—er—the fact is that Jack hasn’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>
said a word to me about it, which makes me
quite sure that I am the cause of it, unwilling
as I am to think it.”</p>
<p>“Then, you really don’t know any of
the facts?” said the girl with the eyeglasses.
“Excuse me now, dear, I see Emily
beckoning me; she wants to ask me about a
new seamstress I’ve discovered. Frances
doesn’t know a bit more than we do,” she
whispered to the girl with the dimple in
her chin. “Jack hasn’t told her a thing, so
he evidently still cares for Dorothy, and
she—”</p>
<p>“That’s just it,” wailed the girl with the
dimple in her chin. “I’d have succeeded in
making it up long ago, if they didn’t care
quite so much!”</p>
<p>“Oh, dear,” said the president, “I am
afraid that I am awfully stupid to-day, but
the fact is that—”</p>
<p>“By the way, I heard that you slept at a
hotel last night, Evelyn,” said the girl with
the Roman nose, “how on earth did that
happen?”</p>
<p>“It was all Tom’s fault,” returned the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>
president, in an aggrieved tone, “only he,
being a man, will not admit the fact. You
see, he didn’t want to go to the reception
at all, so he—”</p>
<p>“But, Nell said she met him in the street
and gave him a verbal invitation, which he
accepted with effusion.”</p>
<p>“Pshaw, if Nell knew my husband as well
as I do, she’d be aware that the more
affably he accepts an invitation, the more
determined he is to escape by some plausible
excuse at the last moment. He says
that people always accept your regrets as
genuine under such circumstances.”</p>
<p>“Thank you for telling me that,” said the
girl with the classic profile. “My great aunt
gives whist parties sometimes and, as she
has a lot of lovely old lace and china and
nobody in particular to leave it to, I don’t
like to hurt her feelings by refusing her invitations
outright. On the other hand, if I
accept and happen to be placed at the table
with her, I know I shall not receive so much
as a cracked saucer in her will!”</p>
<p>“But you and Tom did go to the reception,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>
I know, for I saw you there,” said the
girl with the Roman nose, “how did you
manage it?”</p>
<p>“To make him go? Oh, that was easy
enough. I merely said that he wasn’t very
well and as I did not like to go out and
leave him alone, I would ask mamma to
come and stay with him.”</p>
<p>“Oh, then he agreed to go, did he?”</p>
<p>“Yes, dear—said he had meant to go all
along. But after that everything went
wrong: his razor refused to do its work and
he actually pretended that it was all because
I had sharpened a lead pencil with it
the other day, as if that could have—”</p>
<p>“But why did you tell him that you had
sharpened your pencil with it?” asked the
blue-eyed girl.</p>
<p>“Because I cut my finger on the old
thing and thoughtfully warned him that it
was too sharp. Then, I—well my own
wardrobe was full and I had hung up a few
things in his, and the skirt of my new tailor-made
gown was hanging over his dress coat.
He pretended that it was all wrinkled and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>
creased by that. Then, I had borrowed his
box of neckties and neglected to return
them, and he made such a fuss over my forgetfulness
that I determined to give him a
lesson. I saw him lay his latch key on the
chiffonier ready to put in his other pocket
and I didn’t say a word when he turned
out the gas and went off without it.”</p>
<p>“But how did you expect to get into the
house when you returned?”</p>
<p>“Oh! I slipped back into the room in the
dark after he had gone down, and put it in
my own pocket.”</p>
<p>“As an object lesson in remembering.
Good, I’m glad you did it,” said the girl
with the eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“M’hm. I told the maid not to sit up
for us, and I saw for myself that every door
and window was fastened tight—for once
Tom climbed in at the pantry window when
he had forgotten his key and didn’t want
me to know how late he stayed at the
club.”</p>
<p>“I suppose he complained next day because
the window was open, too,” murmured<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>
the girl with the dimple in her chin,
“men are so illogical!”</p>
<p>“Well, no, dear; but he would have
done so, only the clock happened to strike
three as he came upstairs, and I counted the
strokes aloud. Well Tom was cross at being
kept waiting, but my gown fits so well
that I felt at peace with all mankind.”</p>
<p>“Even your own husband!” said the
brown-eyed blonde. “It must indeed fit well.”</p>
<p>“Yes. And I enjoyed the evening immensely,
for I knew I had such a good joke
on Tom when we got home.”</p>
<p>“Yes, and what happened then?” asked
the girl with the eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“Oh, it was great fun. He searched in
all his pockets twice, rang the bell until he
was tired, though the maids asleep in the
third story might as well have been in
Greenland for all the good that did. Then,
he tried to force each door and window before
he came back to the carriage to tell me
that we were locked out!”</p>
<p>“And then you—”</p>
<p>“I said: ‘Why didn’t you tell me before,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>
dear? Luckily, there is one of us who
remembers things.’ If you could only have
seen his face as he took the key I gave
him!”</p>
<p>“Then why on earth did you sleep at the
hotel?” queried the girl with the Roman
nose, in a bewildered tone.</p>
<p>“I—well, the fact is that I—in the dark,
I had mistaken the key to his desk for the
latch-key! And, oh, girls, if you had seen
me driving home from the hotel at ten
o’clock in the morning, in the gown I had
worn at the reception!”</p>
<p>“You poor, dear thing!” cried the blue-eyed
girl, “no wonder you chose ‘Woman
in Politics’ for to-day’s discussion! If men
are such tyrants as that, our only refuge
will be equality in suffrage and—”</p>
<p>“Latchkeys,” said the girl with the eyeglasses,
“though to be sure, we’d need
pockets to keep them in, if we carried
them. Sometimes, I suspect that the
dressmakers are in league with the men to
keep us from gaining our rights,” she
added.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p>
<p>“Perhaps they are,” said the blue-eyed
girl, with a startled air, “the men pay the
bills and so the dressmakers may be in
league with them!”</p>
<p>“You forget one thing, dear,” said the
president, with a superior air. “It is the
women who make the bills. You never
heard of a man who ordered a dress for his
wife did you?”</p>
<p>“I hope not,” replied the girl with the
Roman nose, “at least, if she was obliged
to wear it.”</p>
<p>“Well, dears,” said the president, “we
really must adjourn, it is awfully late, but
of course such a serious discussion could
not be hurried. I think I must go and
have a cup of bouillon to refresh me after
making such serious demands upon the gray
matter of my brain.”</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="chapter"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p>
<h2>Chapter III<br />
<small>Man’s Real Attitude Toward the
Progress of Woman</small></h2>
<p>The Teacup club came to order with
more than its usual reluctance at its next
meeting and the president looked severe.
“I wish you girls would stop talking about
Helena and her affairs,” she said. “I detest
gossip, and, besides, I want to hear all
about her, too, and we can talk better after
the meeting is over. The topic for to-day’s
discussion will be, ‘Man’s Real Attitude
Toward the Progress of Woman.’”</p>
<p>“I’m glad to hear it,” said the girl with
the Roman nose. “Men are such queer
creatures that by the time a girl gets to
understand them really she is too old to
attract their attention. Now, if we all put
our heads together—”</p>
<p>“We may attain wisdom without its accompanying<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>
wrinkles,” broke in the girl
with the dimple in her chin; “that is a
good idea, for—”</p>
<p>“It is no real gain to know how to make
them bring the proper kind of flowers and
confectionery, if you have to spend the
money thus saved on the beauty doctor;
yes, that is true,” sighed the brown-eyed
blonde.</p>
<p>“Widowers, or men who have been engaged
several times, are often nice,” said
the girl with the eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” said the girl with the dimple
in her chin. “I like to do my own
training, if it is troublesome. You can’t
persuade a widower that his late wife was
not a type of all womanhood, and that is
horrid, especially if she happens to have
had a taste for domestic magazines and
molasses candy! That is why a widower is so
much less attractive than a widow; she—”</p>
<p>“Has learned that men, save for a few
leading traits, are all different,” said the
girl with the classic profile. “Yes, matrimony
always widens a woman’s views of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>
opposite sex, while it narrows those of a
man.”</p>
<p>“Oh, dear,” said the girl with the Roman
nose; “I do wish men would not do one
thing and say another. Now, they are
always praising domesticity in women, as
well as shrinking modesty, and yet—”</p>
<p>“They always overlook the domestic
kind of a girl when she does venture among
people,” broke in the brown-eyed blonde.
“I know it, and as for shyness and modesty,
it is only the girl who is bold enough to call
attention to those qualities in herself who
receives a social reward for them.”</p>
<p>“Oh, well,” said the president, “a man
with a couple of sisters learns a great deal
about the sex.”</p>
<p>“Humph!” said the girl with the eyeglasses.
“I don’t know why it is, but the
more sisters a man has, the slower he is to
enter into matrimony.”</p>
<p>“I’ve noticed that myself,” said the girl
with the classic profile; “while girls who
have plenty of brothers usually marry before
they are twenty.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p>
<p>“Pshaw! That is because the friends of
their brothers get a chance to see them sew
on buttons and make caramels,” said the
girl with the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“No, it isn’t,” said the girl with the dimple
in her chin, “it is because such a girl has
more than one person to oppose the man
who wants to marry her. But talk about
masculine inconsistency! It sets me wild
to hear men talk about domesticity and
modesty and all that, and then hang about
Kate, a girl who doesn’t know a frying pan
from a—a camera, and who had as lief ask
for a thing she wants as to hint for it—so
unfeminine!”</p>
<p>“I know it,” said the girl with the eyeglasses.
“Why, she never has to buy a
flower, and as for candy, she has so much
that she actually shares it with the other
girls! I go to see her more frequently in
Lent, because my conscience will not allow
me to buy any then, and—”</p>
<p>“And Kate has been engaged six times;
she told me so herself,” said the girl with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>
the eyeglasses. “I declare, it is enough to
make a girl—”</p>
<p>“H’m!” said the president. “Don’t
forget, my dears, that while she has been
engaged six times, she has not been married
once!”</p>
<p>“Why—er—that is true,” cried the blue-eyed
girl. “You dear, delightful, clever
thing! I am so glad that I just made you
be our president.”</p>
<p>“Oh, well, of course I like it dear; still,
as somebody once said, I’d rather be right
than president.”</p>
<p>“Hear, hear!” cried the girl with the
Roman nose.</p>
<p>“Yes. But, oh, girls, Tom says that all
the men in our set are talking about this
club. He says that Jack Bittersweet asked
him confidentially the other day if being
intellectual made a woman less loveable.
Luckily, I had just agreed to let him have
a masculine dinner party and he assured
Jack that it did not.”</p>
<p>The blue-eyed girl arose softly from her
seat and going over to where the brown-eyed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>
blonde was sitting, kissed her. “You
dear thing,” she said. “Come over any
day you like and you shall see the
new sleeve design I got from Paris yesterday.”</p>
<p>The girl with the dimple in her chin exchanged
glances with the girl with the eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“What time in the year do you prefer
for a wedding?” asked the latter, apropos
of nothing.</p>
<p>“Oh, speaking of weddings, that reminds
me,” said the girl with the Roman nose.
“I’d have prepared a paper on to-day’s
topic, as you suggested, Evelyn, but Elizabeth
asked me to help select her wedding
dress and—well, you know, Elizabeth.
It has taken her two days already and I
don’t see any prospect yet of her making
up her mind.”</p>
<p>“And yet she required only five minutes
in which to decide to accept Fred, when
he asked her to marry him,” said the president,
thoughtfully.</p>
<p>“I know, dear, but then in this matter of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>
selecting her dress, she had a choice,” said
the brown-eyed blonde.</p>
<p>“And I’m sure that Elizabeth’s father is
delighted to buy her a wedding dress,” said
the girl with the eyeglasses. “Oh, Emily,
pardon me—I quite forgot that Elizabeth is
your cousin!”</p>
<p>“Never mind, dear, though I rather like
her, in spite of the relationship. Oh, girls,
you have no idea of what an effect this club
is having upon me. Why, I’ve turned my
den into a library, cut all the leaves of my
Carlisle and coaxed papa to buy me a handsome
writing desk and do up the walls in
forest greens because pink and blue seemed
so frivolous. Now, I can sit in that room
and write papers for the club in real comfort.”</p>
<p>“You don’t know how pleased I am to
hear it,” cried the president, warmly. “It
is quite worth all the labor of selecting
topics and leading the discussion, I assure
you. Why, Marion, how late you are!
Don’t you know that the really advanced
woman is even ahead of the clock?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p>
<p>“Yes, I do,” panted the girl with the
classic profile, “but, really, I’ve had the
most awful time getting here at all! You
know I’m always in trouble, but really this
is the worst that—I’ll never go anywhere
with Nell again, unless it’s to my own
funeral, and I can’t help myself, then.”</p>
<p>“What on earth has Nell done now?”
queried the girl with the dimple in her
chin, “don’t you know that you must not
expect absolute sanity from an engaged
girl? You said you were going with her to
the south side to call upon some of the
relatives of her affianced. Did she take
you over there, and then discover that she
didn’t know their exact address? Or
did—”</p>
<p>“The address was not forgotten. We
hadn’t meant to do any shopping to-day,
but we stopped in to buy some thread, and
really the new silks were so cheap that—”</p>
<p>“You arrived an hour late, and penniless!
I know,” said the blue-eyed girl.</p>
<p>“N—ot quite. I had ten cents left when
we started for home, and we had to take<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>
two lines of cars. Nell and I couldn’t get
seats together—in fact, we were at opposite
ends of the car. However, I paid her fare
and signaled the fact to her, receiving a nod
in reply.”</p>
<p>“Well?” said the president, “didn’t she
want to pay your fare on the other line?”</p>
<p>“She—well, the fact is that she had misunderstood
the signal, and paid our fare
again with her own last dime. And there
we were three miles from home, without a
penny in our pockets—and the street car
company had a dime it hadn’t earned.
But then Nell never had a grain of sense—I
should think by this time she knew that
herself.”</p>
<p>“If she doesn’t, I’m sure you are not to
blame, dear,” said the girl with the Roman
nose. “However, for my part, I shall not
blame you, even if you are as cross as a man
who is wearing a frayed collar, for the rest
of the afternoon.”</p>
<p>“But, don’t let us interrupt the proceedings,”
said the girl with the classic profile,
“just tell me what to-day’s topic is, and I—”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p>
<p>“Oh, it is a perfectly delightful one!”
said the blue-eyed girl. “Man’s real attitude
toward the Progress of Woman,
and—”</p>
<p>“His real attitude is that of flight,” said
the girl with the Roman nose, “he—”</p>
<p>“Don’t be flippant, dear, whatever you
are,” said the president, gravely, “we have
enough of that to endure from our masculine
acquaintances. It seems to me that a
man laughs at whatever he fails to understand,
and then feels that he has replied to
the argument.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps that is the reason that men
laugh at so many jokes in which I can see
nothing funny,” said the girl with the eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“No doubt of it,” said the brown-eyed
blonde, “but, girls, never attempt to imitate
them. I did once, and Annie—you
know how obtuse she is—kept asking loudly
what I was laughing at, and I couldn’t tell
her. When a man had just made the remark
that he was glad to find a girl with a
keen sense of the ridiculous, too!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p>
<p>“Just like Annie,” said the blue-eyed
girl. “I sometimes wonder whether she is
really obtuse or only malicious. You know
how devoted Tommy Bonds is to music,
don’t you? Well, Annie and I once accompanied
him to a Thomas concert, and I
wanted to make myself agreeable—”</p>
<p>“I hope you didn’t do it by conversing
while the orchestra was playing,” said the
president.</p>
<p>“Of course not, goosie. But I remembered
that he always says a woman should
be two things—sincere and fond of music.
The soloist was a pianist, I can’t remember
his name, but his hair was not at all remarkable.
When he played an encore, Tommy
leaned over to me, and said: ‘Isn’t it
charming?’ and I replied, ‘Yes, I like it
better every time I hear it; in fact, I often
ask people to play it for me.’ I wish now
that I hadn’t said that.”</p>
<p>“Why so?” asked the president, “it
seems to me just the right thing to say.”</p>
<p>“But Annie leaned over asking, loudly,
‘What is the name of it?’ and, to my horror,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>
Mr. Bonds said he didn’t know, and it
was all so sudden that, to save my life, I
couldn’t make up a name! In the silence
which followed, some one in front of us was
heard remarking that the encore was a composition
by the pianist himself, and now
played for the first time in public!”</p>
<p>“And it was all Annie’s fault, too,” said
the girl with the dimple in her chin. “By
the way, did I ever tell you how it happened
that Mr. Bonds gave up calling me a
delightful conversationalist? No? Well,
you see, he lived almost opposite to us,
and he practiced on the ’cello until papa,
who is very fond of De Quincey, said he no
longer dared to read “Murder considered as
one of the Fine Arts.” Suddenly he
stopped practicing, and—”</p>
<p>“Mercy on us, had anything happened
to him?” gasped the president, turning
pale.</p>
<p>“Nothing ever happens to people who
deserve it. As it happened, however, we
were no better off, for some one, a new
resident of the street, we supposed, began<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>
to practice on the violin seven hours a
day!”</p>
<p>“It may not have been a newcomer,”
observed the girl with the eyeglasses. “It
is a fact that one vigorous soprano is enough
to demoralize a whole neighborhood, and I
suppose—”</p>
<p>“The ’cello is quite as bad? Possibly so,
at any rate rents went down in the neighborhood
and placards went up. One day I
happened to meet Mr. Bonds, and as long
as my father was not within hearing distance,
I said: ‘Oh, I’m sorry that you
have given up your delightful ’cello.’ If
you could have seen the rapture on his
face.”</p>
<p>“I’d rather have seen his face than that
of your guardian angel,” remarked the girl
with the classic profile; “but go on; don’t
stop.”</p>
<p>“I wish I had stopped then, but I didn’t.
I said, ‘By the way, who is it that scrapes
the violin all day long? I never heard
anything so awful in my life!’ Oh, girls,
I—”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p>
<p>“But I don’t see anything wrong in
that,” said the president.</p>
<p>“He did. You see, he had given up the
’cello and taken to the violin with the idea
of astonishing the world with his genius!”</p>
<p>“And you live to tell it,” said the girl
with the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“M—yes—you see, everything has its
compensation. When papa heard what I
had done, he gave me a hundred dollars and
his blessing.”</p>
<p>“What luck some people have,” said the
brown-eyed blonde, “while others—oh,
girls, I know something perfectly lovely,
but I don’t know whether I ought to tell
it to you or not. My conscience—”</p>
<p>“Why, Frances,” said the president, “I
shall be awfully hurt if you don’t tell us
now. When a girl speaks of her conscience
in that way, it simply means that she distrusts
her audience. You might know by
this time, that we never tell anything which
transpires at a meeting of this club.”</p>
<p>“Of course not,” said the girl with the
dimple in her chin. “Why, Dick teased<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>
me vainly a whole evening to find out the
line of argument advanced in favor of equal
suffrage when we discussed ‘Woman in
Politics’ the other day. The janitor must
have told him the topic under discussion,”
she added hastily.</p>
<p>“Very likely,” said the president.
“What was that you wished to tell us,
Frances, dear?”</p>
<p>“It was something that happened to
Nell,” said the brown-eyed blonde. “Her
fiancé had told her a great deal of his
friend, Mr. Thynker, of Boston, who is to
be his best man, and whom she had never
seen. He appeared suddenly at Mr. Dickenharry’s
office the other day, just as the latter
was starting for Milwaukee, and there was
barely time for him to make arrangements
with Mr. Thynker to call on Nell the following
afternoon. As it happened, he knew
the Vansmiths, and was asked to the
luncheon they gave that day, and seated
immediately opposite to Nell. Of course
he didn’t catch her name when they were
introduced, and there was no chance for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>
explanations. Oh, girls, I wonder if I
really ought to finish this?”</p>
<p>“If you don’t, I shall ask Nell why you
didn’t,” said the president.</p>
<p>“Well, during a lull in the conversation,
he leaned forward and, in loud, clear tones,
asked Nell what kind of a girl his friend
Tom Dickenharry had got himself engaged
to <i>this</i> time!”</p>
<p>“M’hm,” said the president, after the
laughter had subsided a little, “that settles
one matter in advance, anyhow. It is easy
to know upon whose side the victory will
rest when they have their first quarrel after
marriage.”</p>
<p>“There is one question I would like to
ask the members of this club,” said the girl
with the eyeglasses, “and it is one which
nearly disrupted our little Shakespeare club:
If you really want to please a man—any
man—what is the best way to go about
it?”</p>
<p>“That is really such a simple question
that there is only one answer possible,”
said the girl with the dimple in her chin.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p>
<p>“And that is—”</p>
<p>“Be born rich.”</p>
<p>“But, suppose you have neglected that
qualification,” persisted the girl with the
eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“Learn to cook; but never let him taste
the result of your cookery,” said the blue-eyed
girl.</p>
<p>“Yes—or wear his college colors,” said
the girl with the classic profile.</p>
<p>“Let him do all the talking,” said the
brown-eyed blonde.</p>
<p>“Praise the shape of his head—no matter
what it may be,” said the president. “I
wouldn’t tell anybody that,” she added,
reflectively, “only that two fortune tellers
and a palmist have assured me that my husband
will outlive me.”</p>
<p>“Mr. Bonds has a very well-shaped
head,” observed the girl with the eyeglasses,
“a little long perhaps, but—”</p>
<p>“The rotundity of his pocketbook over-balances
that,” broke in the girl with the
dimple in her chin.</p>
<p>“Clarissa says he is generous, too—a rare<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>
quality in a really wealthy man,” said the
blue-eyed girl.</p>
<p>“M—I don’t know about his generosity,”
said the president. “A marriage
license is about as inexpensive a thing as a
man can buy, and yet he has displayed no
desire to invest in one.”</p>
<p>“Oh, pshaw, that makes no difference,”
said the girl with the Roman nose, “lots of
girls nowadays don’t intend to marry, anyhow,
so—”</p>
<p>“I wonder why they never think to mention
the fact publicly until after they are
thirty,” mused the girl with the dimple in
her chin; “oh, girls, shouldn’t you like
really to do something wonderful?”</p>
<p>“I once wore a pair of common-sense
shoes a whole month,” said the blue-eyed
girl, modestly.</p>
<p>“H’m; who was the Englishman?”
asked the brown-eyed blonde, “the one
with whom you used to walk at that time,
I mean,” she added, pleasantly.</p>
<p>“It was the spring that Mr. Penny-Lesse
was here, but I don’t see what that had to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>
do with it,” said the blue-eyed girl, with
great dignity.</p>
<p>“Nothing at all of course,” said the
brown-eyed blonde, “I only—”</p>
<p>“You did not meet him, I believe; he
was very particular about the people to
whom he was introduced,” said the girl with
the dimple in her chin, sweetly. “I did
rather an unusual thing myself once—I had
five dollars in my pocketbook when my
allowance came due!”</p>
<p>“Yes, but you had left the pocketbook
at my house ten days before, and thought it
was lost,” said the girl with the classic profile,
“don’t you remember, I only brought
it over after the shops were closed the evening
before?”</p>
<p>“Oh, girls,” said the president, “I’ve
recently met a woman who has traveled all
through Asia, and—”</p>
<p>“I suppose she did it in bloomers and
one of those horrid, unbecoming, stiff caps,
too,” broke in the brown-eyed blonde.
“Well, all I’ve got to say is that a woman
who has the courage to make such a guy of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>
herself, is brave enough to face all the
tigers and mountain lions, and—er—boa
constrictors in Asia.”</p>
<p>“I don’t believe there are any boa constrictors
and mountain lions in Asia,” said
the girl with the Roman nose. “As for
tigers—”</p>
<p>“Mercy, how literal you are!” pettishly
replied the brown-eyed blonde. “Well,
buffalos then; how will that suit you?
I’m equally afraid of all of them, myself.”</p>
<p>“Oh, girls,” cried the girl with the dimple
in her chin, “Marion and I have just
had such fun. We have been telling each
other the most awful things that ever happened
to us in our lives.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps that is what made you late,
too,” remarked the president, in a severe
tone.</p>
<p>“N-not exactly. You see, I knew there
was something wrong about my watch, and
I could not remember whether it was thirteen
minutes fast or thirteen minutes slow,
so—”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p>
<p>“But do tell us what was the most awful
thing that ever happened to you, Evelyn,”
cried the girl with the classic profile. “The
very worst thing that ever befell me was connected
with a timepiece. It was last summer,
and a man who—who had been very
nice to me was going away early the next
morning. Men were scarce at the seashore,
as you know, and when a lot of the
girls saw us sitting on the porch they came
over and spent the evening with us. We
just could not get a chance for a word
alone.”</p>
<p>“I know—I know,” groaned the girl
with the dimple in her chin.</p>
<p>“Yes. Well, his train was to go at 5:16
<small>A.M.</small>, and he asked me in the most meaning
tone if I cared sufficiently to hear something
he had to say to get up early enough to see
him off. I—I said I did.”</p>
<p>“Well?” said the girl with the Roman
nose.</p>
<p>“I set my watch by the hall clock in
order to be sure of getting up in time; then
I lay awake nearly all night so I would not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>
oversleep myself. When I reached the station
it was five minutes past six.”</p>
<p>“Watch stopped?” asked the girl with
the eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“No; Harry had run down to spend that
evening with Kate, and she had set the
clock back. The man was married in October
to one of the girls who had risen in time
to see him off.”</p>
<p>“Of course,” said the president. “Speaking
of awful things—you all know how afraid
I am of fire.”</p>
<p>“We do,” said the girl with the Roman
nose. “I believe you could smell a burning
match a block away.”</p>
<p>“Well, the other day our fire insurance
ran out, and Tom handed me the money
and asked me to go down and renew it, as
he was very busy. I forgot all about it
until night; then I lay awake sniffing smoke
until Tom thought I had influenza again.
Next morning I got ready to go and attend
to it at once. I wanted to look nice, too,
because one of the men in that office once<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>
told Tom that he had an awfully pretty
wife.”</p>
<p>“How much money did he borrow from
Tom that time?” asked the girl with the
dimple in her chin.</p>
<p>“I was curling my hair,” went on the
president, unheeding, “when I smelled fire.
I ran wildly all through the house, with a
curl still wrapped about the iron, trying to
locate it!”</p>
<p>“And did you find any?” asked the
brown-eyed blonde.</p>
<p>“Yes; my own hair was burning,” said
the president, with a groan.</p>
<p>“How awful!” said the girl with the eyeglasses.
“That reminds me of what once
happened to me. It was when I was wearing
a single curl in the middle of my forehead.
One day Frank was there, and he—he
would twist it over his finger and quote
poetry about it until he took all the curl
out of it. Of course I discovered that I
had no handkerchief and went up to get
one.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p>
<p>“I don’t see anything so awful in that,”
said the girl with the classic profile.</p>
<p>“No, dear; but while I was curling it I
dropped the hot iron down my back, and
dared not even scream lest he find out what
I was doing.”</p>
<p>“The worst thing that ever happened to
me,” said the girl with the dimple in her
chin, “was in connection with Lewis. As
soon as it was settled, I went to tell Emmeline,
so she would give up trying to get
him. I said I was his first love, and she
couldn’t imagine how jealous he was. ‘Oh,
yes, dear, I can,’ said she; ‘he was always
so when he was engaged to me!’”</p>
<p>“I wondered why you broke with him,”
said the president. “Well, we must adjourn
now, and I must say that I have
never heard a subject more logically discussed
than the one to-day!”</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="chapter"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p>
<h2>Chapter IV<br />
<small>Concerning the Heroine of To-day</small></h2>
<p>“Are you ready to go to the meeting of
the club?” asked the blue-eyed girl, as she
bounced into the room. “Why, Dorothy,
dear, what is the matter? has your father
gotten himself a new bicycle instead of one
for you, or—”</p>
<p>The blue-eyed girl sat up on the couch.
“I don’t care if I never ride a bicycle again
as long as I live,” she replied, deliberately.</p>
<p>The girl with the dimple in her chin
turned pale. “I knew it was something
awful when I saw you crying with the
blinds all rolled up; but I hardly thought it
was so bad as that. You—you haven’t
any fever or queer feelings in your head,
have you?”</p>
<p>“If I had, it would not make any difference,”
she sobbed. “I—oh, I’ll get even<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>
with Effie Bittersweet if it ruins my complexion
and takes me all the rest of my natural
life to do it!”</p>
<p>“Oho, it’s Effie, is it? Well, you’ll
have plenty of chances to get even with
her, once you are her sister-in-law!”</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t marry Jack now, to—to
spite Effie, and I—I doubt if I shall have
the chance, anyhow. And as for Frances,
I—”</p>
<p>“Never mind, dear; I know she has behaved
abominably, but she is punished
already. Her aunt has brought her a new
hat from Paris, and it is geranium pink—fancy
Frances in geranium, can you? She
promised it to Frances when she went
abroad last fall, and Frances has been talking
about it ever since. She will have to
wear it, too, because her aunt is to make
them a long visit, and she is too wealthy
to have her feelings hurt.”</p>
<p>The blue-eyed girl shook her head, sadly.
“It is very kind of you to try to cheer me,”
she said, “but I am beyond rejoicing. I
only hope it is a very deep geranium pink,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>
that’s all. Oh, Emily, what a desert waste
this life is! No, don’t put another cushion
back of me—I want to be just as uncomfortable
as possible. You know Effie was
here this morning, don’t you?”</p>
<p>“I suppose so—I noticed that you have
two portraits of Edwin on the table.”</p>
<p>“Yes. Well, she asked me to go shopping
with her, and I must say I was
pleased, because she hasn’t been here since—since—”</p>
<p>“Not since you quar—pardon me, I
mean since her brother quarreled with
you.”</p>
<p>“She said she’d ask me to lunch with
her down-town, but she had spent almost
all her allowance.”</p>
<p>“The idea of hinting to you in that bare-faced
way! Now, if you had been a man
it—”</p>
<p>“Would have been all right, of course.
However, I know how confidential Effie
always grows over a cup of tea, so I
promptly invited her to lunch with me.
After she had accepted, I found that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>
I had only fifty cents to my name. Papa
had gone down-town and, mamma had just
borrowed a quarter from me!”</p>
<p>“My goodness, did you tell Effie that
your head ached so badly that you couldn’t
go?”</p>
<p>“And have her say that I was fretting
myself ill over Jack? No, thank you. I
excused myself a moment and went downstairs,
for I had just remembered a habit
Papa has of leaving money lying about on
his desk. To my joy, I found a five-dollar
bill in one of the drawers, and I took
that, because I—”</p>
<p>“But weren’t you afraid to take it?”</p>
<p>“M—yes, but then one’s own people
have to make up with one sometime or
other. Well, we had a lovely time shopping,
and I took Effie off to luncheon before
she had had time to get cross matching
samples. It was a lovely luncheon, and
before we had finished Effie said she hoped
I would visit her at Delavan in August!”</p>
<p>“H’m; I suppose she didn’t mention
the fact that Jack expects to be in Canada<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>
from the last week in July to the first one
in September, did she?”</p>
<p>“No; she didn’t. Oh, what a cat she
is—and I asked her to take another ice on
the strength of it! Well I paid the bill,
tipped the waiter, and was just going out
when the cashier came running after me,
and oh, Emily, what do you think?”</p>
<p>“You had left your umbrella, of course.”</p>
<p>“No, I hadn’t. I—I, that five-dollar
bill was a counterfeit which papa was keeping
as an object lesson to mamma, who had
gotten it in change!”</p>
<p>“You might have known that no man
with a wife and grown daughter would leave
five good dollars in an unlocked drawer,
dear. Did Effie—”</p>
<p>“Loan it to me? She hadn’t quite
enough, and I don’t know what I should
have done if Frances had not happened to
come in. Effie said that she did not mind
borrowing from Frances, because she—she
was quite like a sister to her! And now I
shall have to make Papa angry by coaxing
for money to pay for all those ices Effie ate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>
on false pretenses, and w—worse yet, she
and Frances will have the pleasure of laughing
over it together!”</p>
<p>“And telling Jack about it, too,” gasped
the girl with the dimple in her chin, helplessly.</p>
<p>“Of course I know they will do that,”
sobbed the victim. “But I hardly thought
that even an intimate friend would be unpleasant
enough to remind me of it!” And
she buried her face in the cushions and
wept.</p>
<p>“Then you are not going to the club
this afternoon? Shall I tell them that you
are busy with the dressmaker, or the
dentist? They know that you can make
everybody else wait.”</p>
<p>“Tell them nothing. I shall go—and
complain of a cold in the head, which will
explain the pinkness of my nose and eyes.”</p>
<p>“But will any of them believe you?”</p>
<p>“All of them. You know those horrid
quinine tablets Evelyn is always wanting
people to try—well, I shall take one of
them publicly. You don’t suppose that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>
any one will suspect me of doing it unnecessarily,
do you?”</p>
<p>The girl with the dimple in her chin shuddered.
“Impossible,” she said.</p>
<p>The blue-eyed girl suddenly stopped curling
her hair, and, facing her friend, remarked:
“I can tell you one thing though—Jack
Bittersweet shall pay dearly for this!”</p>
<hr class="tb" />
<p>The president of the Teacup club rapped
for order with the handle of her umbrella.
“I am glad to see you all here to-day, in
spite of the weather,” she remarked. “We
have a very interesting topic for discussion. It
is, ‘Woman in Her Character of Heroine.’”</p>
<p>“Indeed, it is interesting,” said the girl
with the Roman nose. “I only wish you
had thought to mention it to me and I
should have prepared a paper on it. No,
I couldn’t have done it, either, for my
aunt from New Jersey was in town, and I
had to take her sight-seeing. Oh, dear,
aren’t people who live in the country painfully
active? And what ideas they have!
They seem to think Lincoln Park is in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>
back yard and the Statue of Columbus
across the street.”</p>
<p>“I know a girl who has had a much worse
time than that,” said the brown-eyed
blonde. “She had to take her future
mother-in-law to see the sights. The old
lady had read up in preparation for her
visit, and knew more about the city than
Marie herself. Now, while the poor girl is
being massaged with arnica and things to
get over the effects of her exertion, the old
lady is busy telling her son that such an
ignorant girl can never make a good wife!”</p>
<p>“Speaking of the bravery of women,”
said the girl with the classic profile, “I
know a girl who early one morning heard a
noise in a large closet next her room, in
which she kept her furs and cloth gowns.
She slipped out of bed and into the hall, and
turned the key, which was fortunately on
the outside, and there she had the burglar
safe in that stifling atmosphere. Then she
fainted.”</p>
<p>“And no wonder,” said the girl with the
eyeglasses. “I should have fainted first.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p>
<p>“It took them three-quarters of an hour
to restore her and find out what was the
matter, then they sent for the police, and
what do you think they found?”</p>
<p>“That the burglar was dead,” breathed
the girl with the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“No. It wasn’t a burglar at all; it was
her own father, who had risen early and
gone into the closet to look for a file of papers
which had been kept in the attic for
twenty years. Oh, he said perfectly awful
things when he got breath enough to speak!
Unluckily, too, it happened just at the
time when she needed a lot of new things.
She said that nobody appreciated her
bravery except a man who was paying her
attention at the time, and he didn’t dare
say a word before her father for fear of losing
his good-will.”</p>
<p>“Humph!” said the girl with the dimple
in her chin, “it only goes to show that
women are really more courageous than
men.”</p>
<p>“Of course they are,” said the girl with
the eyeglasses. “Why, only the other day<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>
I read of a girl who had a hole bored in one
of her front teeth and a diamond inserted.
Did you ever hear of a man who was brave
enough to go to the dentist unless he really
had to?”</p>
<p>“No,” said the president. “Oh, girls, I
once had my pocketbook snatched from me
by a boy, and I just ran after him until he
dropped it. I don’t know that I should
have been so brave,” she added, “but for
the fact that, beside my card, it contained
several unpaid bills of which my husband
knew nothing. If the police had caught
the boy with it, they would have communicated
the fact to him, and I never should
have heard the last of those bills.</p>
<p>“I hope he appreciated your bravery,
anyhow,” said the girl with the eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“Of course not,” said the president; “his
only comment was that it served me right
for carrying my pocketbook in my hand.
Oh, you can’t make a man understand that
a woman fears nothing. By the way, I wish
several of you would come home to dinner
with me. I broke Tom’s lovely bit of old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>
Venetian glass to-day, and I had rather not
be alone with him when he finds it out.”</p>
<p>“I’ll go with pleasure,” said the girl
with the Roman nose, “is anybody else
coming?”</p>
<p>“Nobody but Mr. Troolygood,” said the
president. “I always ask him in such an
emergency, because he prophesied that Tom
would break my heart within two years of
our marriage. Tom knows that, and—well,
I could dance on the graves of his ancestors
if Mr. Troolygood was present, and
Tom would encourage my efforts.”</p>
<p>“Then, I don’t see why you ask us to-day,”
said the girl with the Roman nose,
“he ought to be—”</p>
<p>“Sufficient? Yes, I suppose so; but—well,
the truth is that he is rather hard to
entertain, and Tom is so busy in his presence,
being nice to me, that he is no help
at all.”</p>
<p>“I should be delighted to dine with you,
also,” said the blue-eyed girl, “but really
I have such a cold that I don’t dare to be
out at all after nightfall.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p>
<p>“Have you a cold?” said the brown-eyed
blonde, “why, I didn’t notice it when I
met you in the restaurant this morning.”</p>
<p>“Didn’t you, dear? But then you are
not very observant. You had not even
noticed that there was a wrinkle in the waist
of your new gown, until I pointed it out to
you. Evelyn, dear, mightn’t I take another
of your quinine tablets now? I really
think that I am feeling better already.”</p>
<p>“Do not take too much of it, dear, if
you value your peace of mind,” said the
girl with the eyeglasses. “I’ve had such an
awful cold this week. I don’t know how I
ever caught it, unless it was sitting in that
hot church on Sunday. Mamma would have
me go, and I—”</p>
<p>“Perhaps you caught it standing on your
front steps Monday evening,” suggested
the girl with the classic profile. “I saw you,
as I passed, and wondered how long—”</p>
<p>“Oh, it was only a moment. The parlor
was full of people, and I just stepped out
with Frank a moment to—to ask him how
he expects to vote at the coming election.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p>
<p>“I thought you both looked as if you
were discussing politics. Of course, he had
to think well on the merits of the opposing
candidates before he gave an opinion
and—”</p>
<p>“Oh, pshaw, it is impossible to know
how one catches cold, and it does one no
good to know, anyhow,” said the girl with
the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“Unless it is some one else’s fault,” said
the girl with the dimple in her chin. “I
have a cold myself, and I don’t dare to
mention the fact to my family. They are
so unsympathetic that they—”</p>
<p>“Would want you to wrap up and wear
overshoes if it was July,” said the president.</p>
<p>“They would, they would,” wailed the
girl with the eyeglasses, “well, I just knew
that I had to be well in time to go to Mrs.
Brownsmith’s card party. The way that
Marie tries to attract Frank’s attention is too
dreadful, and I knew she would be there.”</p>
<p>“If she had to unscrew her coffin lid to
get out,” said the blue-eyed girl.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p>
<p>“M’hm. They wanted me to take all
sorts of horrid remedies at home. I
wouldn’t do it, though; the very idea
made me cross. Finally, on Wednesday,
Frank dropped in to see if I was better and
said I must take some quinine. Of course,
I couldn’t refuse and hurt his feelings,
especially as he remained all the afternoon
and watched me take it. By his advice, I
took a large dose of it that night, and when
I woke up in the morning my cold was
almost gone, but oh, I had the queerest
buzzing in my ears!”</p>
<p>“Oh, well, nobody could see that,” said
the president, “so you—”</p>
<p>“Kept on taking it all day, and was able
to go to the card party, after all; though
the quinine had made me as deaf as a
statue. It made little difference at first,
because Marie kept close at my elbow, and
Frank and I were not alone a moment. I
couldn’t get rid of her at all until, just as
mamma said she would not wait another second
Mrs. Brownsmith called Marie to her,
and Frank—”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p>
<p>“Improved the moment,” said the girl
with the dimple in her chin. “What did
he say?”</p>
<p>“I—I don’t know,” sobbed the girl with
the eyeglasses. “He whispered, and I
couldn’t hear. And before I could ask
him to repeat, Marie was at my side. As
he put me into the carriage, he said: ‘You
will let me have my answer by messenger
to-morrow, won’t you?’ And I—I don’t
know w-whether he ask-asked me to marry
him, or only to go to the m-matinee!”</p>
<p>“You poor, dear martyr,” cried the
president. “Dorothy, dear, you had better
not take any more of those tablets, because—”</p>
<p>“But dear, Dorothy is in no danger of
having to answer such an important question,”
said the brown-eyed blonde, sweetly.</p>
<p>“Very true, dear; I have answered it
already—in the negative,” said the blue-eyed
girl. “Ah, you can never know,
Frances, how painful it is to be obliged to
tell a man who loves you that there is no
hope.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p>
<p>“Dear, dear,” said the president, hurriedly,
“I’m afraid that, in spite of all my
efforts, we have not discussed to-day’s
topic as consistently as usual. It does
seem to me sometimes that you girls talk
as much as men. Of course you do not expect
to be listened to as they do, still—”</p>
<p>“I should think not,” said the girl with
the Roman nose; “did I ever tell you of
the time I went to make a round of calls
with Ethel, and—”</p>
<p>“Found she was leaving her sister’s cards
by mistake?” said the girl with the classic
profile. “Indeed you did. And wasn’t it
funny that she left one for Maria, to whom
her sister hadn’t spoken for a year? Just
like Ethel, too.”</p>
<p>“This was another time,” said the girl
with the Roman nose. “You know how
much Ethel talks? Well, we called on one
woman I had never met before, and she
asked Ethel subsequently if I was not deaf
and dumb!”</p>
<p>“Never mind, she knew better when she
met you next time,” said the girl with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>
eyeglasses; “but what is the topic for discussion
to-day?”</p>
<p>“‘The Heroine of To-day,’” said the
president, “and I think—”</p>
<p>“I suppose that is the bachelor girl,”
said the brown-eyed blonde.</p>
<p>“Or the one who marries a foreigner,”
said the girl with the dimple in her chin.
“Talk about bravery! Why, I knew a girl
who became engaged to a Russian before
she could pronounce his name.”</p>
<p>“Speaking of that,” said the girl with
the classic profile, “isn’t it horrid of Elizabeth
to send out her wedding cards so long
ahead. No chance this time to say that we
didn’t know it in time to select a present.”</p>
<p>“I shall pretend that I never received my
invitation at all,” said the president; “one
must protect one’s self somehow.”</p>
<p>“I do hate to go shopping with her nowadays,”
said the girl with the dimple in her
chin, “if I don’t buy a lot of things myself
I am miserable, and if I do her reproachful
gaze seems to say, ‘I know the cost of this
will come out of my present.’”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></p>
<p>“As if you wouldn’t ask your father for
the money for that, anyhow!” said the girl
with the classic profile.</p>
<p>“I shall do nothing of the kind, dear; it
would make too much trouble. I don’t
know why a man will cheerfully give a wedding
present himself, but let—”</p>
<p>“One of the women of the family ask for
money for the same purpose and he feels
that he is being robbed,” said the girl with
the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“I suppose it is on the same principle
that makes a man insist upon treating every
other man he meets and then grumble because
his wife wants oysters after the play,”
said the brown-eyed blonde.</p>
<p>“Just as he feeds a girl on candy before
he marries her and then complains of dentists’
bills afterward,” said the girl with
the dimple in her chin; “men are so illogical!”</p>
<p>“Indeed they are,” said the girl with the
Roman nose; “one of them will keep on
telling a girl that she has a swan-like carriage,
and then think her vain if he catches<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>
her watching her own movements in the
glass.”</p>
<p>“Why does she let him catch her at it?”
queried the girl with the dimple in her chin.
“Oh, girls, you know that awful, dark green
necktie that Dick has been wearing! Well,
I endured it until I felt as if I should scream
if I saw him wear it again, so I begged it
from him; told him that I wanted it as a
souvenir to hang beside his college cap and
his football colors. As soon as he sent it
to me I threw it into the fire.”</p>
<p>“And he came in before it was reduced
to ashes?” asked the president, in sympathetic
tones.</p>
<p>“No. He appeared with another just
like it, the very next day—said he didn’t
like it himself, but since I had admired it
and he wanted to please me, he had matched
it before he sent it to me!”</p>
<p>“And that was your only reward for trying
to save his feelings,” sighed the blue-eyed
girl. “Really, Emily, I often think
you are too good for this world.”</p>
<p>“At any rate, I shall soon be out of it if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>
so many sorrows are heaped upon my head.
By the way, girls, I’ve been learning to
ride my bicycle, and talking of heroism, I—”</p>
<p>“How many times have you fallen?” exclaimed
the girl with the classic profile. “I
heard the other day of a girl who learned to
ride in a single lesson, without falling once,
and—”</p>
<p>“Humph. I’ve often heard of that girl
myself—but I’ve never seen her. I’ve
fallen nineteen times; that is, not counting
the time mamma called after me to be careful,
and the time that Dick said I had ridden
almost a half block since he let go of
my belt—because you know, it was not my
fault that I fell upon either of those occasions!”</p>
<p>“Of course not,” said the president,
“but, girls, we really must not talk about
bicycling, because if we do we shall drift
away from our discussion, and I can’t bear
to depart, even momentarily, from the high
standard of the club. We were speaking
of Elizabeth a moment ago; has any one
seen her lately?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p>
<p>“Not I,” said the blue-eyed girl. “I
make a point of avoiding the girl who is
about to be married, the mother of the
cleverest baby in the world, and the woman
who is designing her own house. Really,
you know, I don’t mind letting someone
else do all the talking, but I <i>do</i> like a change
of topic once in a while.”</p>
<p>“I know I was just as sensible as any one
could be while Tom and I were engaged,”
said the president, “and yet, people did act
so oddly. Why, they would go right away
if I began to talk of him at all; they didn’t
even stay long enough to see how sensible I
was.”</p>
<p>“By the way, I believe that Jane and
Mr. Sooter are engaged,” said the girl with
the classic profile; “Jane denies it but—”</p>
<p>“Then I think you are mistaken,” said
the girl with the eyeglasses. “I know
Jane, and she seldom understates a case.
Why do you think they are engaged?”</p>
<p>“He has given up sending her flowers
and candy, and begun presenting bric-a-brac
instead.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p>
<p>“Pshaw, that is nothing; he may once
have been engaged to a girl who was a
china maniac, and these may be the presents
she returned.”</p>
<p>“Possibly. By the way, Kate has grown
so wary now that she only gives the man to
whom she happens to be engaged presents
which she can use after she breaks with
him; never pipes and—”</p>
<p>“Oh, by the way, I know how her last
engagement came to be broken in so many
pieces that it could never be mended,” said
the girl with the dimple in her chin.</p>
<p>“Do tell us all about it; we are all so
intimate with Kate that we wouldn’t dare
to tell anybody, because it would seem that
we were betraying a confidence,” said the
girl with the classic profile.</p>
<p>“Well, when she was engaged to Mr.
Yaleblue, she gave him a lovely meerchaum
pipe, which of course came back with her
other presents when the engagement was
broken. By the next Christmas she was
engaged to Dan, and it seemed such a waste
to let it lie in the case, and she gave it to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>
him, telling him a pretty little story of how
she bought it when she was in Paris, and
kept it hanging in her den ready for Prince
Charming when he appeared. You wouldn’t
think a little thing like that would have
broken the engagement, would you?”</p>
<p>“Why, of course not,” said the girl with
the eyeglasses, “how on earth did—”</p>
<p>“Oh, he just asked how it came that it
was so strong of tobacco!”</p>
<p>“Dear me, girls,” said the president, “I
am afraid that we really must adjourn,
though there is still a great deal more to
say on both sides of the discussion. But I
have just remembered that I have invited a
whole party of you to dinner, and neglected
to mention the fact to the cook!”</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="chapter"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p>
<h2>Chapter V<br />
<small>The Club Settles Some Currency
Problems</small></h2>
<p>“The topic for to-day’s discussion will
be ‘Currency Problems of the Present
Day,’” observed the president, after the
club had come to order, “and I hope you
are all prepared—”</p>
<p>“There is only one currency problem in
the present day—to my knowledge, at
least,” broke in the girl with the classic
profile, “and that is: how to make two
dollars do the work of ten.”</p>
<p>“Dear me, there is something actually
masculine in your flippancy,” said the president,
with ferocious gentleness. “The question
before us is one of the deepest gravity,
and—”</p>
<p>“Nobody knows that better than myself,”
said the girl with the classic profile,
“don’t I lie awake night after night, wondering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>
how to get my new things out of the
money my father has allowed me for the
purpose, or, better yet, how to coax more
out of him without letting him realize the
fact.”</p>
<p>“Don’t talk about money, please; it
makes me blue,” wailed the girl with the
dimple in her chin. “What with never
having enough for myself and constantly
seeing other people with more than I like
them to have, I—”</p>
<p>“What I want to know is—and you
ought to be able to tell me, girls—why a
woman who looks all sweetness and gentleness
should suddenly develop into a raging
lioness, just because her own son wants to
marry some nice girl,” sighed the girl with
the eyeglasses, waking suddenly out of a
reverie.</p>
<p>“Humph,” returned the blue-eyed girl,
“there are some things I don’t quite understand
myself—such as the banking system,
and the reason why your dressmaker tells
you calmly that she must have two yards
and a half more of your dress material,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>
when you have plainly informed her that
you bought a remnant. But as for your
question, it is so simple that a man could
answer it. No woman ever did, or ever
will, like to play second fiddle to another
one, and—”</p>
<p>“Oh, nonsense,” said the girl with the
Roman nose, “it is just a question of tact.
Let a man make his mother believe that she
has chosen his wife and she—”</p>
<p>“Yes, and wouldn’t it be pleasant to
have your mother-in-law tell you, every
time she wanted you to discharge the cook
or do without a new gown, that her son
would never have married you but for her!”
cried the girl with the dimple in her chin.</p>
<p>“Speaking of mothers-in-law,” said the
girl with the classic profile, “Nell is to have
a new woman in that capacity. I found
her crying the other day because she had
heard that Madame considered her too
domestic to make her son a good wife!”</p>
<p>“Yes, I know,” said the blue-eyed girl,
“and did you hear of Alice’s woes? No?
Well, you know, she and Morton fell in love<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>
at first sight, and became engaged two
weeks later. After the engagement was
announced, she was invited to visit his people
in Iowa, and went in fear and trembling,
for she did not know much about
them, and Morton could not be there at the
time.”</p>
<p>“Hadn’t the courage, you mean,” murmured
the girl with the dimple in her chin.</p>
<p>“Very likely, dear. Well, his mother
was as bad as Alice had feared. Her ideas
were all in direct opposition to Morton’s,
and the poor girl almost fretted herself into
nervous prostration trying to please them
both. After all, when she got home, she
found—”</p>
<p>“That she had been mistaken in her feelings
for Morton, and it didn’t make any
difference whether they were pleased or
not!” said the girl with the eyeglasses. “I
knew how it would end when you began.”</p>
<p>“No. She discovered that Madame was
only his stepmother, after all! Imagine
trying to please a mother-in-law and a stepmother
combined!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p>
<p>“I’d rather not fancy it,” said the president,
with a shudder. “Girls, I only hope
you will be as lucky when you are married
as I am, for—”</p>
<p>“You aren’t going to tell us all of Tom’s
virtues again, are you?” said the girl with
the dimple in her chin, uneasily.</p>
<p>“When my mother-in-law becomes unpleasant,
I just ask her to go with me to
spend the day with Tom’s grandmother,”
went on the president, affecting not to hear
the last remark, “she doesn’t dare to refuse,
because the old lady has some china
which we both want, and she’s afraid I
may succeed in wheedling it out of her! It
is great fun to hear my own mother-in-law
lectured by <i>her</i> mother-in-law on the sins
which the former thinks I have appropriated
entirely to my own use.”</p>
<p>“But, ah—doesn’t Tom’s mother take it
out of you on the way back?” queried the
blue-eyed girl.</p>
<p>“No, dear. You see, I am careful not
to sit with her in the train, and Tom always
meets us at the station; besides, she’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>
hardly in her usual form, and I could be a
match for her,” she added, modestly.</p>
<p>“Oh, girls,” said the brown-eyed blonde,
“speaking of mothers-in-law makes me
think of wedding presents. Did you—oh,
did you hear about the plates I gave Elizabeth?”</p>
<p>“Yes, I did,” said the girl with the dimple
in her chin, “and a girl who gives away
old Crown Derby like that is either an angel,
or not quite sane—I don’t know which!”</p>
<p>“Say anything you like; I haven’t the
spirit to reply. And after you’ve heard
the story—well, it was this way: I ran
across the dozen of them in a little second-hand
shop, and the proprietor didn’t seem
to know their value and asked a very moderate
price.”</p>
<p>“I beg your pardon, dear,” said the girl
with the dimple in her chin, “I take back
all that I said before!”</p>
<p>“You needn’t. I saw that I could beat
him down, so I didn’t take them then, but
went in a day or two later, taking Elizabeth
along to make sure they were genuine.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>
Really, she does know something about
china, though—”</p>
<p>“She doesn’t know anything else,” finished
the president. “Well, they were genuine,
weren’t they?”</p>
<p>“They were, Elizabeth became so affectionate
on the spot that I saw she knew
what I wanted them for. I didn’t take
them then, but went back the next day to
find that the man had raised his price; he
said another person wanted them—as if I’d
believe that. Well, it went on for a week,
until the price demanded was so outrageous
that I should never have paid it, but
for the fact that Elizabeth had told everybody
what lovely Crown Derby plates she
was to have, and I wasn’t going to have
her say that I couldn’t afford them!”</p>
<p>“I should think not,” said the girl with
the eyeglasses; “besides, it is necessary to
give Elizabeth a handsome present, since
she is marrying a wealthy man.”</p>
<p>“Of course; if he was poor, a very simple
thing would—ah, be in better taste, so
that the contrast would not be so great.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p>
<p>“M’hm. Well, I bought the plates, and
took them to her myself, because I wanted to
see her face when she opened the package.”</p>
<p>“But she wasn’t surprised, was she?”
asked the blue-eyed girl.</p>
<p>“Yes, she was. She—well, she was the
other person who wanted to buy them, and
whose inquiries had trebled the price I had
to pay for them!”</p>
<p>“In the face of a tragedy like that, it
seems hopeless to offer consolation,” said
the girl with the classic profile. “Still, Elizabeth
will be obliged to give you a handsome
present when you are married.”</p>
<p>“Let us hope that she will not have had
time to forget her obligations,” said the
blue-eyed girl, sweetly. “Of course, she
has a good memory, but—”</p>
<p>“I only hope somebody will give her two
chafing-dishes,” broke in the president. “I
only have one, and if I was not the sweetest
tempered mortal in the world Tom and
I would quarrel seriously over it. Perhaps,
I ought not to speak of myself in that
way, but—”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p>
<p>“You surely ought to know your good
points better than anybody else does,” said
the girl with the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“Very true, dear. You see, Tom thinks
he is a chafing-dish cook, and really he <i>can</i>
cook; but the last time he made a rarebit
my waitress gave warning, because of the
state in which she found the dining-room—which
was very mean of her, because we
had waited on ourselves to save trouble.”</p>
<p>“Partly for that, and partly because you
wanted to talk about Coralie, and her sister
is her cook, I remember—I was there,”
said the blue-eyed girl.</p>
<p>“Yes, but she didn’t know that we
wanted to talk about Coralie, and I told her
that it was to save her trouble.”</p>
<p>“Wasn’t that the time that the rarebit
made you ill, and the doctor couldn’t come
because he, too, had eaten some of it?”
asked the girl with the dimple in her
chin.</p>
<p>“It was. I told Tom, then, that he
must leave out either the doctor or me
when he made rarebit again!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p>
<p>“With the result?” queried the girl with
the classic profile.</p>
<p>“That we didn’t speak for three days,
dear. It was during that time, that I went
to Annie’s chafing-dish party. She wanted
me to make a cheese omelette, and I sent
over for the dish. My messenger found
Tom in the dining-room with a whole party
of men—”</p>
<p>“Cooking on your chafing-dish?”</p>
<p>“No. Trying to entertain them while
the new waitress hunted for it.”</p>
<p>“But, where was it? You hadn’t taken
it?”</p>
<p>“No, dear. The cook had borrowed it
for a chafing-dish party of her own, and
neglected to mention the fact to either Tom
or me!”</p>
<p>“Then, I suppose really that each family
should possess two chafing-dishes,” said the
brown-eyed blonde, thoughtfully.</p>
<p>“Yes—or none at all,” said the president,
sighing.</p>
<p>“Of course I am very much interested in
this discussion,” said the girl with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>
Roman nose; “but I wonder if a thorough
knowledge of currency problems will do us
any practical good. None of us are earning
our own living, and when papa talks
about currency problems at home it is only
to point the moral that times are hard, so—”</p>
<p>“There is where your knowledge will be
most useful,” broke in the girl with the
dimple in her chin; “you can bring it out
to prove that times are <i>not</i> hard, and run
off a lot of statistics to prove your point.”</p>
<p>“But I don’t know any statistics,”
wailed the girl with the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“I’m afraid you have not been paying
strict attention to-day,” said the president,
gravely. “However, if you are in danger
of losing in an argument, be sure to say,
with a smile of superiority, ‘I suppose you
know what the statistics are?’ Now, people
are not in the habit of carrying statistics
around, like cough-drops, and they will
simply give up the battle on the spot. If
they don’t, rattle off a lot of figures; they
can’t refute them immediately, and if they
attempt to do it afterward, you can just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>
say, in a supercilious tone, ‘I thought we
settled that matter yesterday.’”</p>
<p>“Well, I declare,” said the girl with the
Roman nose, “that is just my own father’s
line of argument, and yet it never occurred
to me that I could imitate it. I do hope
you will take very good care of your health,
Evelyn,” she added. “People who are
very intellectual are <i>so</i> apt to die young.”</p>
<p>“I shall,” said the president. “I’ve no
notion of dying and having Tom a widower
while he is still young enough to be attractive.
It would not make so much difference
after that, for I shall take care that he does
not accumulate enough money to make him
fascinating at seventy-five!”</p>
<p>“Dear, dear,” sighed the blue-eyed girl,
“I wonder why so few men have money
until their hair is only a memory!”</p>
<p>“Case of the wind being tempered to the
shorn lamb,” said the girl with the dimple
in her chin; “after all, a man must sacrifice
something on the altar of success.”</p>
<p>“Humph; isn’t it usually his wife?” said
the girl with the classic profile.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p>
<p>“Not if she is clever,” said the girl with
the eyeglasses. “Girls, I once knew a
woman whose husband made a fortune in
two years, and he wouldn’t give her more
than the merest pittance for dress and entertaining.
In fact, the only bills he would
pay, without grumbling, were those of the
doctor. And what do you think she did?
She selected the doctor whose bills were the
most outrageous, and settled herself to be
a chronic invalid. She said she was determined
to get something out of her husband’s
fortune.”</p>
<p>“Good,” said the girl with the dimple in
her chin; “I do hope she really enjoyed
herself after that.”</p>
<p>“I’m afraid not. You see, the doctor
seemed anxious to earn his money, and insisted
that she had some desperate disease.
I doubt if she really enjoyed his subsequent
visits.”</p>
<p>“All her husband’s fault, too,” sighed
the brown-eyed blonde, “and yet, I doubt
if she reproached him for it. It seems to
be a woman’s province to suffer in silence.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p>
<p>“Yes, I’ve often heard my mother make
that very remark to my father,” said the
girl with the dimple in her chin. “I had
rather not quote his reply. Girls, I heard
the funniest story yesterday; Annie
wouldn’t tell me who was the heroine of
it, really, sometimes she is as provoking as
a man. I’ll be even with her, however,
for I’ll never rest until I find out who it
was, then I shall tell everybody, and Annie
will never be able to convince her that she
didn’t tell the whole. It seems that this
girl had quarreled with the man to whom
she was engaged, and a week later she received
a letter addressed in his handwriting.
She did think of taking it to a mind reader,
but it was near the end of the month, and
she hadn’t the money, so—”</p>
<p>“By the way, Emily, dear, when can you
come to lunch with me?” broke in the girl
with the eyeglasses. “I don’t see half as
much of you as I’d like to, and—”</p>
<p>“Any day you like, dear. Where was I?
Oh! She hadn’t the money, and the tea
kettle happened to be handy, so she—”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p>
<p>“But, why not open it with a hair-pin,
like any other letter?” asked the blue-eyed
girl.</p>
<p>“She wanted to return it unopened if she
didn’t like its contents. It proved to be
perfectly horrid; he not only didn’t acknowledge
that he was in the wrong, but he
actually brought forward facts to prove that
she was! Of course, no girl would endure
that, so—”</p>
<p>“Do you mean to say that Annie told
you that?” asked the girl with the eyeglasses.
“I didn’t think it possible that any
girl—”</p>
<p>“Oh, I don’t see any harm in that; of
course every girl wants her own way.
Well, she sealed up the letter again, wrote
on it, ‘Returned unopened’ and sent it
back.”</p>
<p>“H’m,” said the girl with the Roman
nose, “I was thinking that might have been
Clarissa, but she is too intellectual to do
anything so clever. Anyhow, I’m glad
she got the better of him.”</p>
<p>“But she didn’t, dear. She discovered,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>
after the messenger had been gone an hour,
that she had sealed up the envelope without
replacing the letter in it! Can any of you
guess who it was that—”</p>
<p>“Not I,” said the blue-eyed girl, “but if
I had done such a thing, I should never
have trusted Annie with it. Why, are you
going, dear?”</p>
<p>“I’m going over to Annie’s this very
minute,” said the girl with the eyeglasses.
“I—I have something to say to her that
will touch even <i>her</i> hardened conscience!”</p>
<p>“So it was Marion, after all,” mused the
girl with the dimple in her chin, after the
door had closed behind her friend; “well, at
any rate, after this Annie will tell me the
whole of a story when she begins it.”</p>
<p>“I must say, though, that if I was in her
place it would be a long time before I began
one,” said the brown-eyed blonde.</p>
<p>“So you, too, have been confiding in
Annie?” said the blue-eyed girl, sweetly.
“By the way, I am to stay over night with
her, but I promise you that whatever she
may repeat will be safe with me.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p>
<p>“While we are discussing currency problems,
I want to say what a nuisance the
check system is,” said the girl with the
classic profile. “I always did hate to get
my money in that way, and I had an experience
the other day which surely ought
to cure my father of giving them to me.”</p>
<p>“Mercy, you weren’t suspected of being
a forger, were you?” asked the president,
turning pale.</p>
<p>“N—no, I believe not, but—it happened
that my father gave me a check when I was
going shopping, and I found before I cashed
it that I must have five dollars more. Father
had gone to Indianapolis, and mother,
well—the fact is, that she will not loan me
money any more, because I sometimes forget
to return it. I didn’t know what to do
until I suddenly remembered that Ned
Goldie was the person who had to cash the
check for me at the bank; then I knew I
was safe. Pshaw, it just shows that you
can never depend on a man!”</p>
<p>“He surely did not refuse to cash it?”
asked the president.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p>
<p>“N—no, but he—girls, I’ll tell you just
what I did. I said, ‘By the way, Mr.
Goldie, just give me five dollars more, will
you? Father can make it right next time
he comes in.’ And, if you will credit the
fact, he actually said he couldn’t do it. A
man with whom I had danced the german
the evening before!”</p>
<p>“I never believed Ned Goldie would be
so stingy,” said the girl with the dimple in
her chin. “What excuse did he make?”</p>
<p>“Said it was against the rules of the
bank, but he would be delighted to <i>lend</i> me
the extra five dollars. Did you ever hear
of such impertinence in your life? As soon
as my father comes home, I shall tell
him that he must transfer his account to
another bank, for after this I feel that Mr.
Goldie is not a person to be trusted with
money!”</p>
<p>“Dear, dear,” said the president,
gravely, “that is very bad. Don’t mention
it outside of the club, girls; for if the
bank directors found that he was being rude
to the daughter of one of their customers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>
he would lose his position at once. And
there may be some apology or explanation
he can make to your father, too, dear;
though I confess I don’t see what it can
be. Well, girls, I’m afraid we must adjourn,
and I must say frankly that I am
pleased with the work we have done to-day.
The only reason that I suggested
such a weighty topic for discussion was,
that Tom had declared that the club was
unable to grapple with it. After that, of
course the only thing possible was to show
him that he was wrong.”</p>
<p>“Which you can now do conclusively,”
said the girl with the Roman nose, “and I
am quite sure he will be surprised at the
novelty of some of the arguments advanced
this afternoon!”</p>
<p>“What is it, dear?” asked the girl with
the dimple in her chin, as she and the blue-eyed
girl turned the corner. “You have
been so bright and cheerful to-day, that I
am sure something is seriously wrong.”</p>
<p>“Indeed there is. Jack has behaved
abominably! It was enough when he told<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>
Effie that Frances is the most amiable girl
he ever knew; but—”</p>
<p>“That proves conclusively that he is not
engaged to her, dear. No man ever knows
anything about a girl’s temper until he <i>is</i>
engaged to her.”</p>
<p>“Oh, if you want to defend him, I shall
say no more; but I did think—”</p>
<p>“But, I don’t want to defend him. I
only—”</p>
<p>“Then, all I’ve got to say, Emily Marshmallow,
is that you are prejudiced against
the poor fellow. I might have known that
from the start. I only wish I had not taken
your advice and broken my engagement.”</p>
<p>“But, you didn’t do it on my advice,”
said the girl with the dimple in her chin;
“it was all done before you said a word to
me about it.”</p>
<p>“Well, anyhow, I knew you would advise
me to do it; and now you are not satisfied
with what I’ve done. But go on,
don’t spare me—I am too miserable to care
to defend myself! I—I don’t believe I
shall live very long, anyhow. I shall tell<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>
them to give you my marquise ring, as a
token of forgiveness, when I’m gone. I
hope you will remember me when you look
at it—and be sure to notice if the stones
are quite secure in their setting.”</p>
<p>“I w—will; I promise you,” sobbed the
girl with the dimple in her chin; “but don’t
you think a trip—well a trip to Old Point
Comfort might save your life. They tell
me it is very gay there now!”</p>
<p>The blue-eyed girl shook her head.
“Nothing can save me now, dear; why I
can hook all my gowns now without holding
my breath, and yesterday I ate no
luncheon at all—took nothing between
breakfast and dinner but a couple of cream
sodas, a box of caramels, and a cup or two
of afternoon tea. You know nobody can
live long at that rate. Well, I am sorry for
Jack Bittersweet when I am gone; a lifetime
of remorse and—and Frances is not a
pleasant thing to look forward to!”</p>
<p>“You haven’t told me yet about Jack,
dear, so—”</p>
<p>“True; and some one should know the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>
true story when I am no more. Here is
the place where they make such nice chocolate;
let us stop in and drink a cup while I
tell you. You take the chair facing the
mirror, dear,” she said, as they selected a
table, “my personal appearance is no longer
a matter of importance to me.”</p>
<p>“You said that Jack—”</p>
<p>“Has behaved abominably. It is a long
story, but I—I shall probably never tell
you another long story, so you can
afford to listen to this one. You know the
little beggar boy with the beautiful brown
eyes that I told you about a week or two
ago?”</p>
<p>“Yes; but about Jack. I—”</p>
<p>“This is about Jack. I told you how I
sympathized with that boy’s sad story, and
went with him to investigate it, didn’t I?”</p>
<p>“Yes, but you never told me whether his
home was—”</p>
<p>“I didn’t get there. He led me through
the most awful slums, telling me all the
time how his father would beat him, when
he failed to bring money home, and how he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>
knew I was the beautiful lady he had
dreamed of, as soon as he saw me.”</p>
<p>“Well? Go on, dear.”</p>
<p>“Oh, nothing; only the horrid little
wretch suddenly dived down an alley and
disappeared; and, oh, Emily, I—I believe
he made a face at me as he went! Worse
yet, when I felt for my pocketbook it was
gone, and I had to walk all the way home!”</p>
<p>“Oh, my goodness, had he taken it?”</p>
<p>“I surely had not given it to him. I had
almost forgotten the affair, when the cook
came up yesterday to tell me that he was
in the kitchen, and had brought my pocketbook
back, with a long story about having
seen another boy take it. Said he had followed
him, when he left me, and taken it
away from him, in turn.”</p>
<p>“Well, I declare; and there was all your
money intact after you had doubted his
honesty!”</p>
<p>“Not a cent of it, dear; and the cook
said he was wearing a nice new suit. I told
her she had better go back to the kitchen,
and count the spoons, and I called loudly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>
after her, ‘Tell him I never want to see his
deceitful face again!’ The housemaid had
come to the door of my room, too, and was
trying to put in a word, but I wouldn’t
listen to her.”</p>
<p>“Trying to excuse the little wretch; the
idea!”</p>
<p>“That was what I thought. But, oh,
Emily, just then the front door closed with
a bang which shook the house to its foundations,
and then I noticed for the first time
that the housemaid was trying to give me a
card!”</p>
<p>“Good gracious, Dorothy, you never
mean to say—”</p>
<p>“That it was Jack’s! Indeed I do. He
had heard me scream over the bannister
‘Tell him to go away; I never want to see
his deceitful face again.’ And he—he must
have thought I meant it for him. Oh,
Emily, was there ever such a miserable girl
as I!”</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="chapter"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span></p>
<h2>Chapter VI<br />
<small>The Pioneer New Woman</small></h2>
<p>“I think the topic for to-day’s discussion
should be ‘The Pioneer New Woman,’”
observed the president of the Teacup Club.
“Have you all got that down in your note-books?
You don’t know how it pleases
me to see your methodical ways; it shows
the real intellectual advancement of our
club. Why, for my part, I have gained so
much that I am not afraid to discuss any
subject with any one.”</p>
<p>“We have advanced,” said the brown-eyed
blonde. “I feel it, too. By the way,
has any one seen my note-book? I haven’t
had it for three weeks—are you sure that
none of you have gotten it by mistake? I
forgot to put my name in it, and—”</p>
<p>“I know where it is,” said the girl with
the classic profile. “You loaned it to Kate—she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>
told me so herself,—in order that she
might read up on some of the topics we
have already discussed, and so qualify for
admission to the club.”</p>
<p>“I shall blackball her, for my part,”
spoke up the girl with the dimple in her
chin. “She is so frivolous that she would
drag down our high standard. Besides, she
once left me out when she gave a luncheon,
and told people that it was because she had
all the decorations in yellow, and feared
they would not shade with my complexion.”</p>
<p>“Oh, well, Kate is color blind, any
way,” said the girl with the eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“Yes, and she is a little deaf, too,” remarked
the president, “and really does not
know just how sharp her own speeches
sound.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps not,” said the girl with the
dimple in her chin, “but I shall blackball
her just the same. By the way, Alice is
giving a birthday dinner party next week—twenty-six
covers, one for each year. Clever
idea, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>“For whose birthday?” asked the girl<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>
with the classic profile. “Her own? Ah,
really, I knew she was forgetful, but this is
carrying it too far.”</p>
<p>“I wonder why otherwise sensible people
will tell such stories about their ages,” said
the girl with the eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“I’m sure I don’t know,” said the
brown-eyed blonde.</p>
<p>“Neither do I,” said the girl with the
classic profile.</p>
<p>“Of course, it doesn’t matter who knows
my age, as yet,” said the brown-eyed
blonde.</p>
<p>“Nor mine,” remarked the girl with the
classic profile.</p>
<p>“Nor mine, either,” said the girl with
the eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“No, indeed,” said the brown-eyed
blonde; “I got twenty-two birthday gifts
the other day on my twenty-second birthday.”</p>
<p>“Are you twenty-two? Why, so am I!”
cried the girl with the classic profile.</p>
<p>“Just my own age, too,” said the girl
with the eyeglasses.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p>
<p>“And mine; how odd!” cried the girl
with the dimple in her chin.</p>
<p>“That is one of the advantages of the
new womanhood,” said the president; “its
beautiful candor. Now, I tell everybody
that I am twenty-two years old.”</p>
<p>“I wish you would tell Mrs. Van Tompkins,”
said the girl with the classic profile.
“She wouldn’t take my word for it the
other day, though I told her that I couldn’t
be mistaken, as you had told me so at least
six times in the last eighteen months.”</p>
<p>“Cora asked me the other day if there
was any age qualification for membership in
this club,” remarked the girl with the eyeglasses,
during the slight pause which followed
the last speech. “She says she has
not yet celebrated her twenty-first birthday.”</p>
<p>“Born on the 29th of February, then,
wasn’t she?” asked the brown-eyed blonde.
“Yes, it is true that the new womanhood is
breaking down old traditions. We are not
at all jealous of each other now.”</p>
<p>“Of course not,” said the girl with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>
dimple in her chin; “we have learned to
value our own attractions properly. Why,
the other day I stopped Amy and Fred to
tell her there was a dab of powder on her
nose. Formerly another girl would have
been jealous of her dazzling complexion,
and let her go on as she was.”</p>
<p>“How sweet of you,” murmured the girl
with the eyeglasses; “and yet, I doubt if
she was really grateful.”</p>
<p>“That was not the question, dear; I—”</p>
<p>“Oh, dear,” broke in the president, “if
my watch is right it is time to adjourn, and
yet. Why, here is Elise! What has made
you late to-day?”</p>
<p>“A discussion with a stupid man,” cried
the girl with the Roman nose. “Only
think, he actually said that no woman was
mathematician enough to count up her own
birthdays correctly. I was so enraged—why,
he said that ‘I am twenty-two’ is the
same thing to a girl as ‘Polly wants a
cracker’ is to a parrot, or the Spanish fandango
to a guitar player—but what on earth
is wrong? You all look so queer.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p>
<p>“It’s nothing at all, dear,” said the blue-eyed
girl. “We were just looking at your
new hat, that is all. I think your watch
must have stopped, Evelyn dear, for mine
is only—”</p>
<p>“Perhaps it has,” said the president.
“Tom talks so much, sometimes, that I
quite forget to wind it.”</p>
<p>“Oh, well, it needs a rest sometimes,”
said the girl with the dimple in her chin.
“I know that mine—”</p>
<p>“Oh, dear!” said the president, “I know
I am a fright to-day, and nothing but a
sense of duty has brought me here. Why,
I actually have not had a chance to curl my
hair properly for six days, and—”</p>
<p>“Been getting ready your new gown,
have you?” said the girl with the classic
profile. “I only wish I had mine off my
mind.”</p>
<p>“It wasn’t my new gown,” said the
president. “It was Tom. He has had a
heavy cold, and the house smells so strong
of camphor that there will not be a moth
within a block of it this year. I don’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>
mind being bidden a tragic farewell at mid-day,
but I do mind being waked up at midnight
for that purpose.”</p>
<p>“But it was nothing serious, was it?”
asked the brown-eyed blonde. “I thought
the other day, when he came to the top of
the stairs and called to you that he was
dying, that a man who was breathing his
last would manage to do it with less noise.”</p>
<p>“Oh, pshaw!” said the president. “That
was nothing to the time he waked me up at
one o’clock in the morning to tell me that
he was dying, but if I let that mug-faced
young preacher who used to come to see me,
officiate at his funeral he would come back
and haunt me. It took a hot-water bottle,
a mustard plaster, two hot toddies, and the
camphor to quiet him that time.”</p>
<p>“Humph!” said the girl with the dimple
in her chin; “I wonder why a man always
thinks a cold or a boil fatal—when he has it?”</p>
<p>“Perhaps he doesn’t himself,” said the
girl with the Roman nose; “but he always
wants the women of the family to act as if
they did.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p>
<p>“Very true,” said the girl with the eyeglasses;
“but do you know what Dolly
does? As soon as her husband complains
of being ill she begins to weep and tear her
hair and lament that he will die, she knows
he will. That frightens him, and when she
insists upon putting him to bed, and giving
him a bowl of hot ginger tea (which he detests),
he pretends that he was only joking,
and flees to the office, when she calls him
up every half-hour to ask how he is. She
says he seldom complains of his health nowadays.”</p>
<p>“You know my sister Amelia, don’t
you?” said the girl with the classic profile.
“Well, her husband had a heavy cold last
week. He waked her up at two o’clock to
tell her that he was dying, and that he knew
he had not been a good husband to her, and
could not go without her forgiveness. She
wept, and said that he had not been very nice
to her, and had never given her half enough
money. Upon this, the dying man sat up,
and began to argue the case. From argument
they passed to something warmer.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>
He went down to the office next day, and
hasn’t said a word about dying since.”</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t mind Tom thinking he was
dying once in awhile,” said the president,
“if he’d only allow me the same privilege
occasionally. He won’t, though; he comes
in and says, cheerfully, ‘Oh, you’ll soon
be all right. You should have seen how
much worse I was once when I had it, and
never missed a day at the office, either!’
The last time he did that my throat was too
sore for me to reply properly, and I really
thought I should die of rage.”</p>
<p>“And no wonder,” said the girl with the
dimple in her chin. “As if a woman
couldn’t always stand more than a man,
anyhow! For instance, I wonder how
many of them could go out in thin shoes,
and without overshoes, as we do. And yet
you never hear a girl say that she has
caught cold in that way.”</p>
<p>“Never,” said the blue-eyed girl; “we
have too much fortitude. My cousin
Edith’s husband used to be always complaining
of his health, until this last winter,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>
I wondered what had caused his miraculous
recovery, until she told me a few days ago.
She was away from home, and received a
telegram, saying that she must come at
once if she wanted to see him alive. The
message was delayed, being improperly addressed,
and when she reached home, expecting
to find him dead, he met her at the
door. It seems that he had called in a new
doctor, who was the cause of his miraculous
recovery. He said he would never have
another physician to prescribe for him as
long as he lived.”</p>
<p>“Completely cured, eh?” said the president.</p>
<p>“Not that time. Next time he was ill,
and the new doctor appeared, he turned out
to be an old admirer of Edith’s. Her husband
is frightfully jealous, and Edith’s
potential second husband is a very real person
to him. Edith, as nurse, always went
out into the hall to talk with the doctor
after his call. She says she is sure that she
did not remain away so <i>very</i> long; but when
she came back, after the first visit, her husband<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>
sulked; after the second, he raved;
and after the third, he got up, declaring
he’d live, if only to spite them both. And
now, the doctor points to him as an example
of his remarkable healing powers,”
she added.</p>
<p>“Speaking of old sweethearts,” said the
president, “what do you think happened to
me the other day? I was calling on Mrs.
Vansmith and her guest, as she had requested.
Both of them happened to be
out, and, to my annoyance, I found I had
no cards with me. At last I found one of
Tom’s in my card-case, and I left that,
knowing that Mrs. Vansmith would understand.”</p>
<p>“Well, and didn’t she?” asked the girl
with the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“Perhaps. But the visitors didn’t. It
turned out that she used to be engaged to
Tom; while I was in the kindergarten, I
suppose. It seems that his card was handed
to her; and you should have seen the unbelieving
smile with which she listened to
my explanation of the matter!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p>
<p>“You poor, dear,” said the blue-eyed
girl, “you must have been as angry as if
somebody had trodden on your gown. A
rather unpleasant thing happened to Florence
the other day, too; Molly was calling
on her, and a note was handed in. She
thought it was from Teddy Crœsus, and
pretending that she had ink on her fingers,
asked Molly to open it for her, which she did.”</p>
<p>“How stupid of Molly; she might have
known that it was some trick of Florence’s,”
said the girl with the eyeglasses. “Was it
a proposal from Teddy?”</p>
<p>“It wasn’t from Teddy at all; handwritings
are so much alike nowadays. It was a
bill from the hairdresser, of whom Florence
had bought those lovely little curls which
cluster around her brow—and Molly read it
aloud, as she had requested.”</p>
<p>“But who told you about it?” said the
girl with the classic profile.</p>
<p>“Molly. You didn’t suppose it was
Florence, did you? I declare, it made me
feel like trying to persuade both of them to
join our club. There isn’t a girl in it that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>
would do such a mean thing, and the example
might—”</p>
<p>“No, it wouldn’t; they are too frivolous,”
said the girl with the eyeglasses.
“Oh, girls, I sometimes wish that the men
who dance with us could hear the serious
discussions which go on in this club,—so harmoniously,
too.”</p>
<p>“True,” said the president, “not one unkind
word has been spoken, even of the
absent, since we organized. I wonder if as
much can be said of any other club.”</p>
<p>“I doubt it,” said the blue-eyed girl;
“and it isn’t as if we couldn’t think of
clever things to say about people, either.”</p>
<p>“Of course not,” returned the girl with
the Roman nose; “why, I know some
things, even about the other members,
which—”</p>
<p>“So do I,” said the girl with the classic
profile. “Why, I heard the other day that
you—”</p>
<p>“Of course I wouldn’t mention, for the
world,” finished the girl with the Roman
nose, in some agitation.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></p>
<p>“I thought not, dear; it would hardly be
wise,” said the girl with the eyeglasses,
“for you, especially.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure, I don’t see why I, es—”</p>
<p>“Don’t you, dear? But, then, you
never were clever,” said the president.
“Yes, I am very proud of the amiability we
have all displayed since joining the club. I
must say that I didn’t expect—”</p>
<p>“I don’t see why not,” said the blue-eyed
girl. “As for me, I can get along with
anybody, so I was not at all afraid.”</p>
<p>“Yes, dear,” said the brown-eyed blonde,
“your tongue would be a protection, even
if—”</p>
<p>“Other people were even <i>more</i> envious of
me? That is hardly possible, dear; but
I thank you for your good opinion of
me.”</p>
<p>“Don’t overwhelm me with gratitude,
dearest; I really do not deserve it.”</p>
<p>“But, luckily for you, love, people seldom
get their deserts.”</p>
<p>“Oh, girls, don’t quarrel,” said the
president, wringing her hands; “I’ve always<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>
wanted this to be different from a man’s
club, and now—”</p>
<p>“Really, Evelyn, you seem to be the one
who is doing the quarreling,” said the
brown-eyed blonde, tartly. “As for me, I
am naturally amiable, and—”</p>
<p>“It is not your fault if your temper <i>is</i> a
bit soured by repeated disappointments,”
broke in the blue-eyed girl; “of course not.
Everybody says it is no wonder.”</p>
<p>“I—I resign from this club,” sobbed the
brown-eyed blonde. “I’ll not stay here another
minute to be insulted!”</p>
<p>“Girls, girls,” said the president, “do be
reasonable. I—”</p>
<p>“This is the first time <i>I</i> was ever accused
of being unreasonable,” said the girl with
the Roman nose; “and all I’ve got to say
is, that I pity Tom from the bottom of my
heart, and—”</p>
<p>“I don’t doubt but that you’d be glad
to comfort him—if I was dead,” sobbed the
president. “If this is all I am to get for
keeping you at peace during the meetings,
I’ll just resign, and let you run the club to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>
suit yourselves. And a p-pretty mess you-you’ll
make of it!” And she retired behind
her handkerchief.</p>
<p>“I’ll resign, too, this very minute,” said
the girl with the Roman nose. “I knew
just how it would be when Dorothy asked
me to join the club, but—”</p>
<p>“You were afraid to refuse, lest something
happen, and you didn’t know all
about it,” finished the blue-eyed girl.
“Well, I wish to tender <i>my</i> resignation
from the club, to take effect at once.”</p>
<p>“And so do I,” said the girl with the
dimple in her chin.</p>
<p>“And I,” said the girl with the classic
profile.</p>
<p>“I, too,” said the girl with the eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“W—why, then, there’s nobody left!”
exclaimed the blue-eyed girl, gazing about
the room in astonishment. “Oh, w—what
will all the men of our set say when they
hear of this!” she wailed.</p>
<p>“I never thought of that!” said the girl
with the Roman nose. “I know well<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>
enough, though, without thinking,” she
added.</p>
<p>“They will say that women never <i>can</i>
agree among themselves,” sobbed the girl
with the dimple in her chin, “and they will
keep on saying it, in spite of the fact that
it is a baseless libel!”</p>
<p>“Of—of course, I am not an—angry,
only hurt,” sobbed the president.</p>
<p>“I am not angry at all,” said the blue-eyed
girl, “only distressed that the
others—”</p>
<p>“I’m sure I—I haven’t a hard feeling
against any—anybody,” wailed the girl
with the dimple in her chin.</p>
<p>“Nor I,” said the girl with the classic
profile.</p>
<p>“Mercy, no,” said the girl with the eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“If anybody is sorry for having hurt my
feelings, I am quite ready to forgive it,”
said the girl with the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“And so am I,” said the brown-eyed
blonde.</p>
<p>“Then, I don’t see that any of us need<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>
resign,” said the president. “Does anybody
remember the topic under discussion?”</p>
<p>“‘The Pioneer New Woman,’” said the
blue-eyed girl, “and a very interesting topic
it is, I’m sure.”</p>
<p>“Hear, hear,” said the girl with the
Roman nose, as she tucked her handkerchief
into her belt.</p>
<p>“One thing is always a mystery to me,”
said the girl with the dimple in her chin;
“why does no female creature ever acknowledge
that she is a new woman until
she is quite an old one?”</p>
<p>“Oh, well, by that time her years will
entitle her to a seat in a street car, even if
she wears bloomers,” thoughtfully replied
the president.</p>
<p>“Who really <i>was</i> the pioneer new
woman?” asked the girl with the classic
profile.</p>
<p>“Eve; although, she did not call herself
by that name, I believe,” returned the
blue-eyed girl. “So far as I can see, the
new woman is just like all the rest of us—she
wants to get everything she can out of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>
the world, and give as little as possible in
return.”</p>
<p>“And it is perfectly natural that she
should,” said the girl with the eyeglasses.
“The only way we can make the men give
us what we really want, is by asking for a
great deal more, so that they will think
themselves lucky if we compromise on what
we originally decided to have.”</p>
<p>“Hear! hear!” said the girl with the
Roman nose, making an entry into her
note-book, “I’ve been acting on that
theory all my life, but I never thought to
formulate it.”</p>
<p>“Pardon me for the suggestion,” said the
president, “but I hope you are not in the
habit of leaving that note-book around
where any man can see it.”</p>
<p>“It wouldn’t make any difference if I
did, dear. I went to such a fashionable
school that no one but myself can ever read
my chirography—I can’t myself, if it was
written long enough ago for me to have
quite forgotten what I said.”</p>
<p>“Then, you needn’t be uneasy about any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>
old love letters which have not been returned,”
said the brown-eyed blonde.</p>
<p>“Not at all. Nobody could tell whether
I had written a promise of undying affection
or a recipe for hair tonic.”</p>
<p>“I do wish my father had sent me to the
same school,” said the brown-eyed blonde,
sorrowfully.</p>
<p>“Pshaw, old letters don’t tell half as
many tales as old photographs,” said the
girl with the eyeglasses, sighing. “I know a
girl who had been engaged to a man who
returned everything she had given him except
one photograph. She couldn’t refuse
to let him keep it when he begged so hard.”</p>
<p>“He had probably lost it, and didn’t
know how to account for its absence,” said
the president.</p>
<p>“No, he hadn’t. Well, six years later,
she became engaged to another man. I
fancy she must have told him some stories
about her age.”</p>
<p>“It’s always better to understate rather
than overstate a case,” said the blue-eyed
girl.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span></p>
<p>“So my old nurse used to say. Well,
when she was about to be married, her old
lover sent her a beautiful present, and with
it an envelope addressed to her fiancé.”</p>
<p>“Which she should have opened herself,”
said the president, promptly.</p>
<p>“He happened to be present when the
box was opened, dear. The envelope contained
the photograph taken seven years
before—”</p>
<p>“Why didn’t she say that—”</p>
<p>“It was a picture of her elder sister?
She did, dear. What really caused the
trouble was her own name, and the date on
the back of it, coupled with the statement
that it was taken on her twenty-second
birthday!”</p>
<p>“Oh, my goodness, how sly men are?”
said the president. “And to think that
never, as long as she lived, could that girl
tell him what she really thought of him!”</p>
<p>“I know. She used to say that she
sometimes regretted that she <i>hadn’t</i> married
him.”</p>
<p>“Oh, well, he is probably married to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>
somebody else, by this time, anyhow,” said
the president, “though I doubt if his wife
would fully appreciate the enormity of his behavior,
since it was toward another woman.”</p>
<p>“Never mind,” said the brown-eyed
blonde, “people are sure to be punished in
some way or another. I wouldn’t get up
early on Sunday morning, and go to church
if I did not firmly believe that.”</p>
<p>“Goodness me,” said the president, “it
must be awfully late, girls, and I promised
Tom to adjourn early and meet him down
town. I do wonder if he has been waiting
for me all this time!”</p>
<p>“I’ve seen Jack,” said the girl with the
dimple in her chin, as the friends went
down the stairs; “met him on the street
this morning.”</p>
<p>“And, I suppose you hurried right on,
and never said a civil word to him,” returned
the blue-eyed girl.</p>
<p>“Indeed I didn’t. I called after him to
wait for me, and—”</p>
<p>“And I suppose he thought that I had
told you to talk to him, since you were so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>
eager. You needn’t tell me a word that
you said—I don’t want to hear anything
about it. Did—did he look sort of hollow-eyed
and worn?”</p>
<p>“‘M—I can’t say that he did. But he
said that he thought he must give up chafing-dish
suppers.”</p>
<p>“I should think he must have bad
dreams,” said the blue-eyed girl, viciously.</p>
<p>“He—he told me that he had called at
your house the other day, and—”</p>
<p>“I suppose you let him go on thinking
that I meant that message for him. A
nice friend you are, Emily Marshmallow!”</p>
<p>“Why, Dorothy, I—”</p>
<p>“You don’t surely mean that you explained
it all, and actually let him think
that I wanted to apologize! Well, if anybody
had told me such a thing of you, I
never would have believed it.”</p>
<p>“No, I didn’t,” said the girl with the
dimple in her chin, “I didn’t say a word,
for just then Frances joined us; and if <i>you</i>
are clever enough to get a private word with
any man, after Frances sees him, I am not!”</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="chapter"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p>
<h2>Chapter VII<br />
<small>Woman in Legislation</small></h2>
<p>“Let us discuss ‘Woman in Legislation,’
to-day,” said the president. “I had written
you a note, Marion, to prepare a paper
on it, but I found it in my desk this morning.”</p>
<p>“Too bad,” said the girl with the eyeglasses.
“I should have been delighted to
do it.”</p>
<p>“Why, Marion,” cried the girl with the
Roman nose, “have you forgotten? You
said you were too busy painting dinner
cards to touch it. That was when I told
you that Evelyn wanted you to do it, you
remember.”</p>
<p>“No, I don’t,” snapped the girl with the
eyeglasses. “Of course I shan’t have a
minute to prepare a paper for next week;
but I should have been delighted to—”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p>
<p>“Girls,” said the president, “only think!
Tom says this club is actually making me
masculine.”</p>
<p>“Mercy, you must have convinced him
that you had the better of him in an argument,”
cried the girl with the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“No—but I forgot to mail some letters
he intrusted to me the other day when he
was going out of town. By the way, it
seems to me that when legislation is in the
hands of women. What are you girls whispering
about over there in the corner?”</p>
<p>“We are only comparing samples of bicycle
suitings,” said the girl with the dimple
in her chin. “Dorothy has a larger selection
than I, and—”</p>
<p>“Why, I have a lot of them, myself,”
said the president. “Has anybody seen my
hand-bag since I came in?”</p>
<p>“Here it is,” said the girl with the
Roman nose. “I’ve just been comparing
your samples with mine, and I find—”</p>
<p>“Goodness me, I’m late,” said the
brown-eyed blonde, as she bounced into
the room. “I just stopped on my way here<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>
to look at a new design for bicycle suits,
and—”</p>
<p>“I’ve been trying for half a block to
catch you, Frances,” said the girl with the
classic profile, as she opened the door, in
turn; “I’ve been looking at the new bicycles,
and was detained longer than I expected.”</p>
<p>“Oh, shall you get a new wheel this
year?” asked the president.</p>
<p>“No, dear,” returned the girl with the
classic profile; “but, of course, I wanted to
see what they are like.”</p>
<p>“Naturally,” said the girl with the
Roman nose. “My dears, you never heard
of such luck as mine. You know papa said
I shouldn’t have a new bicycle this year, if
I had to walk—”</p>
<p>“Oh, if you call that luck,” said the
blue-eyed girl, “my father said the same
thing.”</p>
<p>“So did mine,” said the girl with the
eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“Wait until you hear the rest,” said the
girl with the Roman nose, “I had my old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>
machine set in order, and expected to have
to do with it all this season. The other
day, I went into the store-room to have a
look at it, and, to my surprise, found it all
splashed with mud, the enamel scratched,
and—”</p>
<p>“The cook had been riding it, of
course,” broke in the president.</p>
<p>“I knew that at once, and I went to tell
mamma she must discharge her on the spot.
However, mamma was lying down with a
headache, and as I had some shopping, a
luncheon, two teas and a dinner on hand
that day, I had no chance to speak to her.
Two days later, I remembered it, and went
in to look at it—I knew that mamma was
so prejudiced against bicycling that I must
make the case very bad to excite her sympathy.
It was bad enough, by this time,
too; one pedal was all bent, the handle-bar
was broken, and the enamel was a sight!”</p>
<p>“I hope you made your mother discharge
that cook on the spot!” said the blue-eyed
girl.</p>
<p>“I rushed right up to mamma’s room to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>
do it. I opened the door, and a familiar
odor greeted me—a combination of arnica
and witch hazel, and—”</p>
<p>“You forgot all about the cook. Had
your mother fallen downstairs?”</p>
<p>“No; she hadn’t. The cook had been
trying to teach her to ride my bicycle; she
had a black eye, a sprained shoulder, and a
skinned face. The cook had gone home
with a dislocated collar-bone, and I had to
wait on mamma, and do all the cooking for
two days!”</p>
<p>“And you call that luck!” groaned the
president.</p>
<p>“Not that, dear. But mamma gave me
a beautiful new wheel for keeping the whole
thing from papa’s ears. And I sold the
old one for enough to buy me a lovely new
suit,” she added, triumphantly.</p>
<p>“I am glad <i>somebody</i> has had a stroke
of luck,” said the brown-eyed blonde.
“As for me, I’ve just had an object-lesson
in the selfishness of this world, which is
enough to make a misanthrope of me for
life.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p>
<p>“Mercy, has your grandmother decided
to buy a wheel for herself instead of for
you?” asked the blue-eyed girl.</p>
<p>“No. But you see it scratches the
enamel to learn on a wheel—not to mention
the other accidents which may befall it.
Now, Nell’s bicycle is old, and I sent to
borrow it to ride while I was taking my lessons.
She actually refused it, unless I
would lend her my new one while I had
hers. Did you ever hear of such selfishness
in your life?”</p>
<p>“Never,” said the girl with the dimple
in her chin. “By the way, I suppose Jack
Bittersweet will teach you to ride?”</p>
<p>“Why, yes; but how did you guess it?”
There was a note of triumph in her voice.</p>
<p>“Oh, that was easy enough. He is
always teaching somebody, you know. I
told him the other day that I was afraid
people would soon think him a professional.”</p>
<p>“B—but he told me that he only teaches
people whom he—likes,” said the brown-eyed
blonde, faintly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span></p>
<p>“Why, of course, dear. But, Jack
hasn’t a bit of discretion; he likes everything
that wears petticoats, I verily believe.”</p>
<p>“Oh—I— By the way, Evelyn, dear,
what is to-day’s topic? You had started
the discussion when I came, and I didn’t
like to interrupt you to ask.”</p>
<p>“It is ‘Woman in Legislation,’” said
the president, after a peep at her note-book,
“By the way, Frances, I know the cheapest
place in town for arnica, if you want—”</p>
<p>“Mine doesn’t cost anything, dear.
Papa always has a bill at the drug store. I
know the clerk, and he has promised if I
use a very large quantity to put it down as
toilet soap and postage stamps. Papa has
never ridden you know, and he might not
understand.”</p>
<p>“Very true,” said the girl with the eyeglasses.
“What a comfort bicycling is,
anyhow. For instance, if you meet a
strange man, and the conversation lags—”</p>
<p>“Get it on bicycles, and it runs smoothly
enough,” said the president.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p>
<p>“I wish <i>I</i> could do the same,” wailed the
brown-eyed blonde. “Well it is lucky for
me that the dancing season is over, for my
arms are a perfect sight.”</p>
<p>“Oh, if it is only your arms!” said the
girl with the Roman nose, cheerfully. “<i>I</i>
always fell on my face when I was learning.
The only comforting thing about that was,
that I soon became unrecognizable, and
could fall right up and down my own street
without a soul knowing who I was. It was
very convenient, too, for they hadn’t far
to take me when I had a really bad accident.”</p>
<p>“How long did you have to wait to sit
for your photograph?” asked the blue-eyed
girl.</p>
<p>“Six weeks, dear—and then it had to be
a profile.”</p>
<p>“Elizabeth had rather a hard time of it,
too,” said the girl with the dimple in her
chin; “she would learn in her lovely new
suit, and by the time she could ride, she
hadn’t enough of it left to make a bathing
costume.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p>
<p>“Tom tells a rather good bicycle story,”
observed the president. “He met a member
of his club, who is a noted scorcher, the
other day. He was wheeling along a very
disreputable specimen of a woman’s machine.
‘Hello,’ said Tom, ‘got yourself
into trouble?’ ‘Yes,’ was the reply, ‘I ran
into a woman up yonder, and I’m afraid
it will be cheaper to buy her a new wheel
than to have the old one repaired.’
‘Humph,’ said Tom, who knows him pretty
well, ‘it’s a wonder you didn’t just ride
away and leave her, when you found what
you had done.’ ‘I did,’ said the scorcher,
‘but it didn’t do me any good.’ ‘Policeman
saw you, eh?’ ‘No. The woman
turned out to be my wife!’”</p>
<p>“Good!” said the blue-eyed girl. “I
came very near not getting my bicycle last
year. Papa said I should have one if I
learned to make a good pie. I agreed to
do it, but I had reckoned without the cook.
She said flatly that she wouldn’t have me
messing up her kitchen. Finally, I compromised
by agreeing to trim her a hat, if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>
she would make the pie. It was really
quite the same you know.”</p>
<p>“Quite,” said the girl with the dimple in
her chin.</p>
<p>“And did it turn out all right?” asked
the president.</p>
<p>“The hat did; but the pie—well, the
cook had lived with us for three years, and
that was the first time she had turned out
an uneatable pie!”</p>
<p>“But, why didn’t you ask your father
to let you try again?” asked the girl with
the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“I did, dear; but I took no chances that
time; I bought the pie from the Woman’s
Exchange. And I must say that I think I
quite deserved the bicycle after all I had
been through to earn it.”</p>
<p>“Indeed you did,” said the girl with the
classic profile. “By the way, Emily, I hear
that you and Dick had an almost fatal quarrel
while you were both learning.”</p>
<p>“We did,” said the girl with the dimple
in her chin. “It happened this way: I was
able to ride at least two blocks without assistance,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>
so I got up very early, and went
to the park alone to practice. I was getting
along very well until I heard somebody
coming up behind me at a terrible pace.
That made me so nervous that I fell right
off. The cyclist who had frightened me
was Dick, and he actually kept right on
without offering to help me!”</p>
<p>“Perhaps he didn’t know it was you,”
suggested the girl with the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“Yes, he did; but he kept right on, and
a perfect stranger had to take me and my
bicycle home. Two hours later he appeared
with his arm in a sling, and explained.
He said it was first time he had
ridden outside of the riding school, and he
had gotten a terrific pace which he couldn’t
have stopped if a rich uncle had been in his
way. He said that if something in his machine
hadn’t broken, he verily believed
he’d have circled the globe without stopping!”</p>
<p>“So you forgave him, didn’t you? You
always were amiable,” said the girl with
the eyeglasses.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p>
<p>“Ye—es. Especially as he offered to
have my bicycle repaired; papa having
declared the last time that he wouldn’t pay
another cent for repairs, if it stood in the
attic all summer!”</p>
<p>“That was good of you. Some girls
would not have been so just,” said the
president.</p>
<p>“Oh, don’t praise me too much,” said
the girl with the dimple in her chin, modestly.
“Nobody who knew me happened
to be in sight when it occurred—else I
might not have let him off so easily.”</p>
<p>“Dear me, how modest you are,” said
the blue-eyed girl. “I never knew a human
being with so little vanity in my life.”</p>
<p>“Nor I,” said the girl with the classic
profile. “Did I tell you about Florence’s
latest trouble? No? Well, you know that
horrid Mr. Brownsmith, who rides beautifully,
begged to be allowed to teach her.
She accepted, and as soon as she had
learned to ride well, she wondered how to
get rid of him.”</p>
<p>“Why didn’t she ask her father to—”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span></p>
<p>“Forbid him to the house? That’s just
what she did. I believe you have heard
this story before.”</p>
<p>“Yes. And her father?” queried the
girl with the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“Absolutely refused to do it. Said he
was the finest young man he knew, and only
wondered that he cared for her society.”</p>
<p>“Well, I declare! And Florence?”</p>
<p>“Would have had to treat him just like
anybody else, if he hadn’t heard all about
it, and stopped calling of his own accord.
Now, every time her father sees him, he
asks why he hasn’t been to the house for
so long!”</p>
<p>“How unreasonable men are to be sure—Florence’s
father, in particular. Why,
he actually refuses to speak to Dickey Doolittle,
whose third cousin married a British
baronet, and who has all his garments made
in London!” said the president.</p>
<p>“I know—he says it makes no difference
to him <i>where</i> Dickey gets his clothes; so
long as he pays for them promptly,” said
the blue-eyed girl.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p>
<p>“Which is the last thing Dickey would
even think of doing,” said the girl with the
Roman nose.</p>
<p>“Oh, well, he may <i>think</i> of it,” said the
girl with the classic profile. “I suppose
that even Dickey thinks sometimes.”</p>
<p>“You have been reading the comic papers
again,” said the president, severely. “Whenever
I hear old jokes I—”</p>
<p>“No, dear,” said the girl with the classic
profile, sweetly, “but I had a long talk with
your husband only yesterday.”</p>
<p>“Dear me,” said the girl with the dimple
in her chin, rousing herself from a
reverie, “I’m afraid I’ve not been paying
attention to the discussion. I can’t even
remember whether we decided that women
should be legislators or not.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry to hear that,” said the president.
“I fear it is too late to go over the
discussion again for your benefit. I thought
you were taking notes of it as we went
along—I saw you jotting something down
in your note-book.”</p>
<p>“That was only my calculations for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span>
bicycle suit. There must be something
wrong about them, too, for I make it
twenty-seven dollars, and I only have
twenty-one dollars and thirty-eight cents to
my name, even if somebody pays my car-fare
home.”</p>
<p>“I only make it twenty-six dollars and
two cents,” said the blue-eyed girl, “and I
have allowed for everything just the same
as you have.”</p>
<p>“But then you are so economical that
your sums in addition always come out less
than mine, dear. I think you had better
go over it again; or let Evelyn do it for
you.”</p>
<p>“I make it twenty-eight dollars and sixty
cents,” said the president. “Try it Frances,
and see if I am right.”</p>
<p>“Oh, don’t,” said the blue-eyed girl,
“if anybody else adds it up, it may come
out thirty dollars, and then I can’t afford
it at all. Well, I do hope one thing,—that
when women are legislators they will arrange
that we all have more money to spend.”</p>
<p>“Of course they will,” said the president,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>
“else why should they bother to be legislators
at all?”</p>
<p>“Hear! hear!” said the girl with the
Roman nose.</p>
<p>“What a comfort you are with your
knowledge of parliamentary usage,” said
the president.</p>
<p>“Yes, I have gained that by joining this
club, if I have gained nothing else,” replied
the girl with the Roman nose. “I
observe, too, that papa and the boys are
less inclined to engage in argument with
me than they were before they knew the
kind of topics we discuss here. Not that
I give myself any airs over it, of course,”
she added.</p>
<p>“Oh, none of us do that,” said the
brown-eyed blonde. “But there is another
benefit which I derive from the club.
Mamma allows me to spend a good deal
more money on my wardrobe, now that
she is afraid that I may begin to look intellectual
if I’m not well dressed.”</p>
<p>“Oh, speaking of bicycle suits; did you
ever hear what happened to Molly’s old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span>
one?” asked the blue-eyed girl. “No?
Well, she was determined to have a new
one this year, so she put the old one away
without any moth-balls, and—”</p>
<p>“It was completely ruined by the moths,
so that she had to get a new one?” asked
the president.</p>
<p>“No, it was comparatively uninjured;
but the moths from it had got into all her
brother’s spring garments, which were
hanging up near it. Molly is thinking of
going away on a nice long visit about the
time that he discovers it.”</p>
<p>“H’m; if I know anything about men,
she had better,” said the president. “Poor
Molly, I suppose she had meant to coax
him for another suit. How unlucky that
girl is, and she doesn’t in the least deserve
her ill-luck, either.”</p>
<p>“No. She often says it would be easier
to bear if she did. Now, last year that
very same brother was always coaxing her
to ask Ida to pay her a visit. Finally, he
said he’d give her fifty dollars if she would
do it, and she thought she might as well be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span>
good-natured and oblige him. However,
she was busy, and put it off a week or two,
and when Ida’s letter of acceptance actually
came he had fallen in love with another
girl, and let Molly do all the entertaining!”</p>
<p>“Just like a man. Did he give her the
money?” asked the president.</p>
<p>“No. He compromised on half, because
Molly had put off asking her. And
Ida stayed two weeks longer than she had
been asked for, and made eyes all the time
at the man Molly really liked herself.”</p>
<p>“Yes, poor Molly,” said the girl with
the dimple in her chin, “she says the next
time her brother offers to pay her for having
a girl to visit her, she will send the invitation
by telegraph!”</p>
<p>“And demand payment in advance,” said
the brown-eyed blonde; “of course he would
be willing to pay for the telegram, anyhow.”</p>
<p>“Yes, and take it to the office, too,”
said the president, with a sigh. “Tom used
to send off all my telegrams before we were
married—he always said it was too far to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span>
the office for me to go myself. Now, he
says that the exercise will do me good.”</p>
<p>“I suppose he doesn’t want to pay for
the message,” said the blue-eyed girl.</p>
<p>“Oh, I never pay for my telegrams, I
always send them at receiver’s cost. People
are so curious to know what is in a telegram
that they pay without a murmur.”</p>
<p>“H’m, I shall have to try that,” said
the girl with the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“But not on me,” cried the president.
“I’ll never forgive you if you do. Oh,
girls, did you hear the awful thing that
happened to Milly when she sold her bicycle?
No? Well, she only got ten dollars
for it, because the man said it was in
such an awful condition that he only took
it to oblige her, and it would be a dead loss
on his hands. He told her to come in in
about ten days, and he’d have some second
hand ones in such good condition that they
would be the best bargains in town.”</p>
<p>“That was very nice of him, since he
made nothing on the transaction,” said the
brown-eyed blonde.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p>
<p>“So Milly thought. At the end of that
time she went back, and found one that
she liked very much, it being the same
make as her old one. He wanted sixty
dollars for it, but she beat him down to
fifty, and took it home with her at once for
fear he would change his mind. What do
you think she found when she got home?
That she had bought her own old machine
back again!”</p>
<p>“But how did she know that?” asked
the girl with the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“By the number on the plate, goosie.
He had put on new pedals, raised the seat a
bit and given it a new coat of enamel—making
forty dollars on the transaction!
And when Milly wanted her husband to
punish him for his rascality, he only laughed
until she actually thought seriously of applying
for a divorce!”</p>
<p>“And no wonder,” said the blue-eyed
girl. “One man will do a mean thing and
another will uphold him. You don’t find
women doing such things for each other!”</p>
<p>“No, indeed,” said the girl with the dimple<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>
in her chin; “our own standard of
feminine behavior is so high, that we hardly
even give each other credit for the good
things we do!”</p>
<p>“I’ve often noticed that,” said the girl
with the eyeglasses, “and I regret to see
that men are unable to appreciate our lofty
motives, and often set it down to envy.”</p>
<p>“My goodness,” cried the president,
with a guilty start, “it must be long past
time to adjourn, and I don’t want the
janitor to look at me as he did last time we
were late. Why, he couldn’t have been
more unpleasant if I had been his own wife!
And the look which always reduces Tom to
instant submission hadn’t the least effect
upon him!”</p>
<p>“I’ve been dying for an opportunity to
speak to you all afternoon,” said the girl
with the dimple in her chin, to the blue-eyed
girl, as they turned the corner, “I met
Effie Bittersweet to-day, and she spoke so
nicely of you that I am sure she thinks you
and her brother are about to become reconciled.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p>
<p>“It isn’t Jack this time, dear,” was the
calm reply. “The fact is, that Clarence
Lighthed has been paying me a good deal
of attention lately, and she was afraid you
would think her jealous.”</p>
<p>“Clarence! Well, I never—how on earth
did you manage it, Dorothy?”</p>
<p>“Strange as it may appear, I didn’t
manage it at all; he did it entirely of his
own accord. But though that is the honest
truth, there isn’t another girl of my acquaintance
who would even <i>pretend</i> to believe
it if I told her.”</p>
<p>“I suppose not, dear; and yet men must
sometimes admire girls of their own free
will. Well, Effie must be feeling very
badly, then, for she said that of course she
knew I would laugh at her for saying it,
but for her part, she considered Dorothy
Darling the prettiest girl in our set.”</p>
<p>“Humph, I’ll remember that when
Clarence calls to-morrow afternoon. You
couldn’t persuade Effie to drop in with
you for a cup of tea, could you?”</p>
<p>“Ye—es, I suppose I could, if you will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>
promise to put enough rum in my cup to
fortify me for the walk home. And I have
always wanted to own a hand mirror like
that silver one of yours. Do you suppose
anybody will ever give me one?”</p>
<p>“You may have mine, if you will promise
to bring Effie in at precisely half-past
four; Clarence will be reading poetry aloud
by that time.”</p>
<p>“I promise; and I might just as well
stop in and get the hand mirror now. You
won’t want me to leave you a moment to-morrow.</p>
<p>“Indeed, I shall not. By the way, of
course I told you that I cracked the mirror
breaking taffy the other afternoon! No?
Why, I wonder how I could have overlooked
the fact.”</p>
<p>“Never mind, dear, Ned Crœsus will
have it mended for me—and thank me for
letting him do it, instead of Dick. By the
way, how can you endure so much of Clarence’s
society? You always said he was so
stupid.”</p>
<p>“That was when he used to talk of nothing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span>
but Effie. Any man would be stupid,
if his only theme was another girl. You—you
couldn’t let Jack know about Clarence,
could you? If it was any one else
Effie would tell him the first time she was
provoked with him. Frances will be careful
not to let him know, and men have such
silly ideas about interfering with other peoples’
affairs, that I doubt if any of them
say a word to him about the matter.”</p>
<p>“I might. Yes, I know I could, if only
I was sure that you would not blame me
if it turned out badly.”</p>
<p>“Well, Emily Marshmallow, to think of
refusing to do a little thing like that for me—when
I’ve just given you that lovely
hand mirror, which I like better than
anything I own. I just believe you
want Jack Bittersweet yourself, and I’m
sure you are welcome to him, for aught I
care!”</p>
<p>“Look here, Dorothy, I think you forget
that Jack is two whole inches shorter than
I; and if you think I am capable of caring
enough for <i>any</i> man to make myself look<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>
like a—a bean pole for the rest of my natural
life, you are very much mistaken!”</p>
<p>“Oh, well, if you are sorry to have hurt
my feelings, of course I shall overlook it.
I only hope, however, that you will not
rely too much on my natural amiability and
push me too far. If you should see Jack
in the near future you might, as you suggested,—”</p>
<p>“But, I didn’t suggest at all. You must
just tell me what you want me to say to
Jack and, if I get a chance, I—”</p>
<p>“You are entirely mistaken. I don’t
want you to say anything to Jack; after the
way he has treated me, I have too much
pride to raise a finger to bring him back.
I only thought that, as you are a friend of
his, you might like to warn him that there
are others who appreciate me, if he does
not.”</p>
<p>“B—but I rather fancy that he will expect—er
some kind of an explanation of
the—the occurrence at your house last
week. Suppose I just say—”</p>
<p>“Well, then, all I’ve got to say is, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>
if Jack Bittersweet is too stupid to understand
a simple accident, I don’t care if he
never speaks to me again. Clarence Lighthed
is one of the very nicest fellows I ever
knew, and I am one of the hap—happiest
girls in the world. Don’t look at me as if
you thought I was crying! I am not—and
if I was, it would be out of p—pure joy!”</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="chapter"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p>
<h2>Chapter VIII<br />
<small>An Executive Meeting</small></h2>
<p>“Why, Frances, is that you? And on
your way to the Club, too,” cried the blue-eyed
girl, as she caught up with the brown-eyed
blonde, “how lucky I am; I shall
have a nice long talk with you as we go
along! How well you are looking to-day,
quite fresh, I declare! Dear me, I should
have put on my gloves before I left home,
but I was in such haste that—”</p>
<p>“By the way, Dorothy, it seems to me
that you are not wearing as many rings as
usual this winter. Surely, I miss the diamond
you used to wear!”</p>
<p>“Why, no I’m not; so much jewelry is
always vulgar, and rings are <i>so</i> hard on one’s
gloves. Mercy, we have walked a whole
block, and you haven’t told me a bit of
news!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p>
<p>“Haven’t I? By the way, I heard Ja—a
man I know, say something about you
yesterday which was quite a surprise. I
don’t really know whether I ought to repeat
it, or not.”</p>
<p>“Oh, he wouldn’t have said it before
you unless he expected you to repeat it,
dear. You must tell me what it is, or I
shall fancy it was not really unpleasant,
and, really I’ve had so many compliments
of late that it will be quite a change. I am
actually afraid that Cla—a friend who thinks
too well of me—will make me vain, and
that—”</p>
<p>“Impossible, dear. By the way, I hear
that Clarence Lighthed comes to see you
occasionally now, and—”</p>
<p>“Not oftener than once in twenty-four
hours, dear.”</p>
<p>“Yes. And really he has been so devoted
to so many girls that—”</p>
<p>“It is a wonder that he has never thought
of <i>you!</i> Why so it is, now that I think of
it. But never mind, there may be a chance
for you yet. Pardon me, you were about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>
to repeat something you had heard about
me, and I’m afraid I interrupted you.”</p>
<p>“Was I? Dear me, I have quite forgotten
what it was; nothing very important,
I’m sure.”</p>
<p>“Very true. By the way, I heard something
about <i>you</i> the other day, too. It was
extremely complimentary—so much so indeed,
that you will think I am trying to
flatter you, if I repeat it.”</p>
<p>“Indeed? Oh, I remember now what I
was about to tell you. It was—so you
really heard something nice about poor little
me?”</p>
<p>“Yes, I really did. I’ll tell you after
you have finished your story. I really
must not interrupt you again.”</p>
<p>“Yes, Ja—I mean the man I know—said
the other day that he thought you—now
you mustn’t mind this, at all, Dorothy; I
told him at once that nobody else had ever
said such a thing of you.”</p>
<p>“How kind of you to champion me, dear;
I really did not expect it.”</p>
<p>“Oh, yes; I often do it. He said—I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>
wouldn’t repeat it to you, but the absurdity
of the charge takes all the sting out of
it. He said, ‘I consider Dorothy Darling
the most heartless flirt I ever knew!’ Isn’t
it too funny!” and she burst into a peal of
laughter.</p>
<p>The blue-eyed girl paused to pat a little
dog before she replied: “How well you do
tell a story, Frances, dear. Look at that
poor, old blind man over yonder; let us
cross over and give him some pennies,”
and she was almost dancing as she crossed
the street.</p>
<p>“Perhaps he is an impostor, after all,”
said the brown-eyed blonde. “By the way,
you said somebody paid me a nice compliment
the other day. Do tell me what it
was, and if I ever get the chance—be it
twenty years from now—I’ll do the same
for you.”</p>
<p>“Oh, yes, indeed. Old Miss Lucy
Brownsmith said to me, only the other day,
‘Really, Frances is quite a nice-looking
girl now that she has given up lacing so
tightly.’ I knew you would be so pleased.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>
Well, here we are at the Club; I am afraid
that I must have walked too fast for you,
dear; you look quite flushed.”</p>
<p>“Oh, Emily, dear,” she whispered, as
she embraced her friend in the cloak room,
“Jack is wild with jealousy! He told
Frances the other day that I was the most
heartless flirt he ever knew!”</p>
<p>“Then, he is ready to go half-way toward
making up! Oh, I am so glad that
I—”</p>
<p>“Half-way? Do you suppose, Emily
Marshmallow, that after allowing Clarence
Lighthed to bore me almost to death for
two weeks, I shall be willing to go half-way
to make up with Jack?”</p>
<p>“But you said the other day that unless
you <i>did</i> make up with him, you would
learn to be a trained nurse and devote
your life to others, and I thought—”</p>
<p>“Never mind what I said the other day—that
was before I knew how jealous Jack
was. And all I’ve got to say, is this: if
you expect me to make a fright of myself
in a gray cloak and bonnet and cotton<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>
gown just to please <i>you</i>, you are very
much mistaken!”</p>
<p>The girl with the eyeglasses put her head
in at the door, “Come into the club-room
right away, girls,” she said. “Evelyn is
here, and she has something of the greatest
importance to tell us.”</p>
<p>The president was evidently excited as
she called the meeting to order. “I am
just as angry as I can be,” she said.
“What do you think I found in my mail
to-day? A letter from a man who is old
enough to know better, suggesting a topic
for discussion by this club. That topic
was, ‘The Best Method of Keeping the Hat
on Straight.’”</p>
<p>“You don’t say so!” said the girl with
the Roman nose. “Well, it only shows
that our mental advancement has made him
uneasy.”</p>
<p>“Of course,” said the president. “Then,
as if that was not enough, he suggests a
small mirror fastened to the inside of an
umbrella or parasol as—”</p>
<p>“Pshaw!” said the brown-eyed blonde,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>
“a highly polished silver handle answers the
same purpose and attracts less attention.”</p>
<p>“Talk about hats,” said the girl with the
classic profile, “men are just as fussy about
their own. Did you ever see anybody put
on a man’s hat to suit him?”</p>
<p>“Never,” said the president. “I had an
awful time when Tom’s arm was broken.
I would put on his hat as carefully as I
could—he always would tip it too far back
himself—and yet, each time he would remove
it, look suspiciously into the crown,
and put it on again himself.”</p>
<p>“As if it makes any difference how a
man looks, anyhow,” said the girl with the
eyeglasses. “So long as they are nice and
generous, no girl cares—”</p>
<p>“Very true,” broke in the girl with the
dimple in her chin, “and it is frequently
the pocket of a last year’s overcoat which
harbors the largest box of candy.”</p>
<p>“I should like to know how a man manages
to keep his hat on without veil or
pins,” said the girl with the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“He doesn’t always do it in a high<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>
wind,” said the girl with the classic profile.</p>
<p>“And yet he always wonders why a
woman holds her hat on when she is driving,”
remarked the girl with the dimple in
her chin.</p>
<p>“You know what a fuss men always make
about big theater hats,” said the president.
“Well, thinking to please Tom, I got a tiny
bonnet, which was so becoming that it attracted
as much attention as a regular
mountain of feathers and velvet.”</p>
<p>“And wasn’t he pleased?” asked the
girl with the eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“Not when the bill came in, and he
found that it cost rather more than a large
hat. I said that he ought to be content to
pay for the principle of a thing. He replied
that it looked as if the interest was all about
all he could afford. I suppose he thought
that was sarcastic.”</p>
<p>“Men have such queer ideas of humor,
anyhow,” said the girl with the dimple in
her chin; “why, I know a man who once
laughed heartily at a joke on himself.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p>
<p>“Perhaps he owed money to the man
who made it, or wanted his vote for something,”
said the girl with the classic profile.</p>
<p>“Well, I’d like to know who first invented
hat-pins,” said the brown-eyed
blonde. “I am sure it was not a woman,
because—”</p>
<p>“It was a man, and he was either an old
bachelor or a bigamist,” said the girl with
the Roman nose. “I had two pins running
straight into my scalp all during service on
Sunday. Dick was with me, too, and it
was so hard to look saintly when—”</p>
<p>“Men always ask why we don’t tie our
hats on, when we complain of pins,” said
the girl with the dimple in her chin.
“Wouldn’t we look nice with our jaws tied
up like those of a small boy with the toothache?”</p>
<p>“To say nothing of having our hearing so
impaired that we couldn’t be sure whether
compliments whispered into our ears were
intended for us or were merely remarks
made about other girls,” said the brown-eyed
blonde.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span></p>
<p>“Well, girls,” said the president, “I see
you all resent it, as I do; and I’m just going
to write that horrid man a letter telling
him that the Teacup Club has too many
serious topics to discuss to waste time upon
anything relating to millinery.”</p>
<p>“Speaking of millinery,” said the blue-eyed
girl, “did you ever see anything as
sweet as the new hats! I went with Elizabeth
to select the ones for her trousseau the
other day, and it did seem hard to me that
a girl only has a chance <i>once</i> in her life
to buy as many hats as she really wants,
and—”</p>
<p>“Not to mention the fact that it is just
at the time when she is so much interested
in her future husband that she can’t give
her whole mind to the subject,” broke in
the girl with the eyeglasses. “Now, if she
could only choose her trousseau a year after
her marriage, instead of before.”</p>
<p>“Yes; or even six months,” said the
president. “Well, my new hat must cost
five dollars less than I had hoped. I borrowed
that amount from Tom last month;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>
and—will you believe it?—he took it out of
my allowance for this month, in spite of
the fact that I told him I had spent it for
his birthday present.”</p>
<p>“But why didn’t you take it out of your
housekeeping allowance? You usually do,”
said the girl with the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“Because I had already taken enough for
a half-dozen pairs of gloves out of that. It
happened that he had not given a single
stag dinner during the month, so I could
not filch too much without discovery.
When he gives a dinner, I can always pay
myself well for the trouble of it. If he
complains of the bills, I just say, ‘Yes,
dear, I see that we cannot afford any more
stag dinners,’ and that settles it at once,”
she added.</p>
<p>“I should think it would,” said the blue-eyed
girl, thoughtfully. “Did you tell Tom
how mean you thought it of him to expect
you to pay back money that you had borrowed?”</p>
<p>“I did. I said, ‘I wouldn’t be as selfish
as you are for anything!’”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p>
<p>“And did that make him feel badly? I
should think so.”</p>
<p>“Not a bit. You don’t know Tom; he
just laughed as if it was funny. Luckily,
I had given him a silk umbrella for his
birthday, and as he has two already, and
this one is—er rather small, I shall get a
good deal of use out of it myself.”</p>
<p>“And you hadn’t one at all, had you?”
said the girl with the dimple in her chin. “I
remember the day you lost yours.”</p>
<p>“Yes. Wasn’t it nice of me to buy one
for him when I really needed it for myself?
But one can’t expect a man to appreciate
generosity.”</p>
<p>“Oh, girls,” said the girl with the dimple
in her chin, “what do you think I heard
to-day?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know what <i>you</i> heard,” said
the girl with the Roman nose, “but I heard
that Clarence Lighthed has just inherited a
fortune from an uncle whom he had never
seen! You know he is my cousin, and—”</p>
<p>“Have you just heard that,” said the
blue-eyed girl, “He told <i>me</i> about it a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>
week ago—the day you said he was
stupid, Emily. I knew at the time that
you would feel badly when you discovered
that it was only—er—grief for the death of
his uncle, which made him so quiet and
thoughtful. Poor fellow, it must have been
<i>such</i> a shock to him!”</p>
<p>“How kind of you to comfort him in his
sorrow,” said the brown-eyed blonde, in
sarcastic tones.</p>
<p>“Yes, dear—especially as he could have
his choice of comforters. I think you said
that you, too, have a piece of news,
Emily.”</p>
<p>“Why—er—yes, I heard that Effie Bittersweet
is on the verge of nervous prostration.”</p>
<p>The blue-eyed girl said never a word;
she looked out of the window opposite her,
and there was a soft, sweet smile on her
face. Perhaps she failed to see the glances
that were exchanged by the others.</p>
<p>“Oh, girls, have you heard the awful
thing that happened to me yesterday?”
asked the girl with the eyeglasses. “No?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>
Then, I had better tell you all about it myself.
I had an engagement with Harry;
we were to call on his aunt who lives in
Rogers Park—nothing very exciting, you
know. Well, Mr. Doolittle came in early
to ask me if I wouldn’t go to the matinée
with him. Now, I knew Harry would take
me to see his aunt any day, and Mr. Doolittle
might never ask me to go to the
matinée again, so I accepted his invitation
at once.”</p>
<p>“You would have been very stupid if
you hadn’t,” said the president.</p>
<p>“So I thought. Then, I told him that
I must stop in at the drug store and send
off a telephone message. You see, I
didn’t want to give Harry all the trouble
of coming up in vain.”</p>
<p>“You are always so thoughtful,” said the
blue-eyed girl.</p>
<p>“I try to be. I called Harry up, but he
was not in, and I told the office-boy to tell
him that I was ill, and could not go with
him to Rogers Park, but hoped to be out
in a day or two. The boy was as stupid as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span>
he could be; I had to repeat the message
twice, and even spell my name. Oh, it was
awful!”</p>
<p>“What? his stupidity?” asked the girl
with the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“No; my own. As I was going out, the
clerk stopped me, and said, ‘You needn’t
have taken all that trouble, Miss Marion;
you were telephoning to Mr. Vansmith,
weren’t you? Well, that was he that just
went out; he was standing about three feet
away from you all the time you were trying
to make the person at the other end of the
line understand!’”</p>
<p>“Well, I hope your father is satisfied
<i>now</i>,” said the president. “You have been
trying to get him to put in a telephone all
winter.”</p>
<p>“Humph; you don’t know my father
very well, dear. When I told him about
it, he only said that he was more fully satisfied
than ever that women were not to be
trusted with telephones!”</p>
<p>“Then there was that horrid drug clerk,”
said the girl with the dimple in her chin;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span>
“why didn’t he stop you when Harry came
in, instead of letting you—”</p>
<p>“The fact is, that I knew he was trying
to attract my attention all the time, but I
thought that it was only somebody else who
wanted to use the telephone in a hurry, and
I took my own good time.”</p>
<p>“He might have known you would have
done that,” said the girl with the classic
profile. “Girls, I often wonder why drug
clerks are such gloomy, misanthropic creatures?”</p>
<p>“Dear knows,” said the president; “I’ve
often noticed it, though. And how cross a
clerk in a shoe store always is! Strange,
too, when they have such light, easy work.
I tried on seventeen pairs of boots only
yesterday, and I never was so tired in all
my life; yet I was as amiable as possible,
and the clerk, who had nothing to do but
wait on me, was so rude that I thought seriously
of having the proprietor in to hear
of it. However, I compromised by going
out without buying anything.”</p>
<p>“It was very good of you, I’m sure,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>
said the blue-eyed girl. “You know Marie
sends to Paris for all her shoes. I never
saw such beauties in all my life as she
wears.”</p>
<p>“H’m. I know she <i>says</i> so,” returned
the girl with the Roman nose, “but—look
here, if I tell you something, will you promise
never to tell it as long as you live?
Well, then, I spent the day with Marie last
week. She had a lovely new pair of shoes,
and I tried my best, without asking
directly, you know, to find the name of
the Parisian boot-maker, and how much
she paid for them.”</p>
<p>“Of course you didn’t find out,” said
the girl with the dimple in her chin. “Marie
can be as impervious to a hint as a man.”</p>
<p>“M’hm. Well, she got ready to go out
with me, and just as we were ready to start
she was called out of the room. Her boots
were all in the closet, and I—well, somehow
I just happened to be near the door, it
was ajar, and I stooped down to look at the
maker’s name on them, when—oh, girls,
the door behind me suddenly flew open!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p>
<p>“Oh, my goodness, it was Marie herself!
What did—”</p>
<p>“No, it was the maid. She said: ‘Will
you please tell Miss Marie, when she comes
in, that Cashly has sent up for the pair of
boots she didn’t take. The boy is waiting
in the hall.’”</p>
<p>“Well, I never,” said the blue-eyed girl.
“But I’ve always said that if I sent to Paris
for my boots I’d have better looking ones
than <i>she</i> gets!”</p>
<p>“But then Marie gets a great deal for her
money, dear, even if the boots themselves
are not of a superior quality,” said the
girl with the eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“Very true. By the way, who went to
Marie’s tea yesterday?” said the girl with
the dimple in her chin; “I did not. Since
the founding of this club I have cared less
and less for gossip and society, and—”</p>
<p>“Then you didn’t mind not receiving an
invitation to Marie’s after all!” said the
brown-eyed blonde. “I must tell her that.
She said yesterday that she didn’t expect
you to speak to her for a month.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p>
<p>“By the way,” said the girl with the
Roman nose, hastily, “Dick made rather a
good suggestion yesterday. He said why not
have a phonograph, or even a stenographer,
in the room while we are discussing a topic;
then we could have copies made, and—”</p>
<p>“That reminds me,” said the president,
and she rapped loudly for order. “Girls,
do be quiet. We have a very important
question to decide to-day. A number of
men have expressed a desire to become
members of this club, and—”</p>
<p>“I vote against it,” said the girl with the
Roman nose. “We can all express our
real opinions now, knowing they will go no
further, whereas—”</p>
<p>“No club man can ever keep a secret,”
broke in the girl with the dimple in her
chin. “As for us, we would die rather than
divulge—”</p>
<p>“They are so curious, too,” broke in the
girl with the classic profile. “We have all
talked so much about our meetings that
they want to know how they are conducted,
that is all.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p>
<p>“Yes, that is just it,” said the brown-eyed
blonde, “and once in they would spoil
all the originality of it by having rules and
all that. Then they’d go away and say
that we couldn’t get along without them.”</p>
<p>“The idea!” said the president, “when
that’s the very reason I set our time of
meeting in the afternoon!”</p>
<p>“Look here,” said the girl with the eyeglasses,
“of course we don’t want to offend
them. Why not have a ‘man’s day’ once
in a while?”</p>
<p>“So we might,” said the president; “but
we had better wait until we get all our new
things. Well, I suppose, since we are all
agreed, that we had better not waste time
in voting on it. I’m awfully glad to see
you here, Elise; I was afraid you would
not be able to come.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I was determined not to miss it,”
said the girl with the Roman nose. “I left
word for them to tell the doctor I was
asleep if he called in my absence. I have
been troubled with insomnia, you know,
and he would tell them not to disturb me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>
Of course, he gave me strict orders not to
go out, but he—”</p>
<p>“Will never know that,” said the brown-eyed
blonde. “Oh, such a time as I had
last fall when I was ill! You see, papa
was going to make me go to Philadelphia
to stay with old Aunt Borely. I—I was
not very well, anyhow, so I took to my
bed.”</p>
<p>“Yes, and you had that nice young doctor,
too,” said the girl with the eyeglasses.
“Oh, why am I so brutally healthy!”</p>
<p>“I did, and he cured me of my particular
ailment,” went on the brown-eyed blonde.
“I had a most becoming light in the room
the first time he called, and what do you
think he did? Pulled every window-shade
up to the top, until I looked a perfect fright—and
he young enough to know better!”</p>
<p>“Pshaw!” said the girl with the classic
profile. “All doctors are horrid. Why, I
once had such a handsome one that he sent
my pulse away up every time he felt it. I
did look so horrid that one day I—I put on
a little rouge just before he came. In consequence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>
he said I had a high fever, and
put me on a milk-and-water diet for three
days, besides giving me—”</p>
<p>“Like the mean thing I had last year,”
said the girl with the dimple in her chin.
“I had a cough, and wanted a trip to
Florida; instead, I got a pair of overshoes,
a lot of flannels, and a mackintosh.”</p>
<p>“Of course,” said the girl with the
Roman nose. “Well, I don’t believe my
doctor is a good one; he—”</p>
<p>“Is too ugly to be a really good one,
anyhow,” broke in the blue-eyed girl.
“Fancy being delirious, and seeing that
creature enter the room!”</p>
<p>“By the way,” said the girl with the
dimple in her chin, “I wonder why ugly
men are always having their photographs
taken and expecting one to keep them
hanging up where one can see them constantly!”</p>
<p>“Perhaps,” said the brown-eyed blonde,
“they hope it may be a case of</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">“But seen too oft, familiar with its face,</div>
<div class="verse"><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">We first endure, then pity, then”——</span><br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<p class="unindent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>No, I don’t mean that,” she broke off,
blushing.</p>
<p>“I should hope not,” said the blue-eyed
girl, in shocked tones. “I should be sorry
to think that any member of this club—”</p>
<p>“The very queen of clubs,” broke in the
president; “that is what Tom calls it—when
he is in a particularly good humor, I
mean. I think we had better adjourn
now,” she added; “Elise really ought not
to be out late, and I am wild to tell Tom
that men will not be admitted to membership.
Doesn’t the doctor do that pain in
your chest any good, Elise?”</p>
<p>“You don’t suppose that I told him anything
about that, do you?” cried the girl
with the Roman nose. “I hope I am not
so silly as that—with Elizabeth’s wedding
coming off in a week, and my lovely low-cut
gown all ready to wear to it!”</p>
<p>“Just wait one moment,” said the girl
with the dimple in her chin. “I haven’t
got to-day’s topic down in my note-book.
What did you say it was, Evelyn?”</p>
<p>“Oh, my goodness!” cried the president,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>
turning pale, “here we have had a
meeting, and I have forgotten to suggest
any topic—and not one of you thought to
remind me of it! Oh, I am afraid that all
my efforts to advance you intellectually are
wasted, after all!”</p>
<p>“Never mind,” said the girl with the
eyeglasses, “this has been an executive
meeting, anyhow.”</p>
<p>“Why, so it has,” said the president,
kissing her; “what a comfort you are,
Marion dear. Tom’s handsome cousin is
coming home from Montana next week
with a lot of money, and you shall be the
very first girl to have an introduction to him!”</p>
<p>“Have you seen Jack Bittersweet lately?”
asked the girl with the eyeglasses, as she
linked her arm in that of the girl with the
dimple in her chin, after the meeting had
dissolved.</p>
<p>“Yes, he came to see me yesterday. I
was in agony all the time he was there, lest
Dorothy come in. I knew she would never
believe that it was the first time he had
done it since they quarreled!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span></p>
<p>“Of course she wouldn’t. Did he ask
your advice?”</p>
<p>“Yes. So does she—but neither of them
take it.”</p>
<p>“You don’t expect that, I hope. Well,
did you find out if he still cares for her?”</p>
<p>“He does. I sat on the sofa, in my
prettiest house-gown, and he took a chair
six feet away. He didn’t even tell me
that fewer men would go to the dogs if
there were more women like me in the
world!”</p>
<p>“Well, I only hope that they will soon
come to their senses, that’s all. Dorothy
looks like a ghost, and as for Jack—”</p>
<p>“If they don’t,” cried the girl with the
dimple in her chin, savagely, “I shall just
have to spend a month or two in a sanatarium.
And I’m not sure that that will
save my life,” she added.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="chapter"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p>
<h2>Chapter IX<br />
<small>On the Use and Abuse of Political
Power</small></h2>
<p>“The absurdity of some people!” said
the president, pausing as she was about to
call the meeting to order. “What excuse
do you suppose Elizabeth gave for not asking
me to look at her pretty things? She
said she fancied I had grown too intellectual
to care for gowns and hats!”</p>
<p>“How ridiculous! She had probably
heard that you do not intend to send her a
wedding present,” said the girl with the
eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“I haven’t told a soul but the members
of this club that I shouldn’t give her
one,” said the president.</p>
<p>“Then she couldn’t possibly know it,”
said the blue-eyed girl, hastily.</p>
<p>“What enrages <i>me</i>, is the insinuation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>
that I have ceased to care for pretty things,
just because I study politics, and—er—other
things. I don’t see why intellectuality
has anything to do with doing up
one’s hair with three hairpins, or—”</p>
<p>“Wearing gowns which are frayed around
the bottom,” said the girl with the dimple
in her chin; “neither do I. And, yet they
seem to be somehow connected in people’s
minds.”</p>
<p>“Very true,” said the president. “Girls,
the editor of a literary journal has asked for
some of the papers which have been read
before this club. He says—”</p>
<p>“Mercy, what answer shall you make?”
cried the girl with the dimple in her chin.</p>
<p>“I told him that I could not think of such
a thing. I always disliked notoriety. It
was very kind of him, though, and he even
offered to let the authors of the papers have
copies of their effusions at reduced rates,
provided they took over a hundred.”</p>
<p>“Which, of course, they would,” said
the blue-eyed girl. “Well, you were quite
right to refuse, Evelyn. I, for one, have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>
such a horror of publicity, and, besides, it
would be quite expensive sending copies to
all one’s acquaintances.”</p>
<p>“True,” said the president; “we are all
in accord, as usual. Let us discuss, ‘The
Use and Abuse of Political Power,’ to-day.
It is a subject which is of the greatest importance
to all of us, and—”</p>
<p>“How do you spell ‘political?’ With
one <i>t</i> or two?” asked the girl with the eyeglasses,
as she opened her note-book.</p>
<p>“With one—no, two. Pshaw, I can’t
remember. Just write it indistinctly.”</p>
<p>“Oh, Dorothy,” whispered the girl with
the dimple in her chin, “I saw Dick this
morning, and he says Jack told him yesterday
that he didn’t really know what your
quarrel was about, but he meant to go and
see you to-day, and ask you to forgive
him!”</p>
<p>“I shall,” said the blue-eyed girl; “and
I don’t mind confessing to you, Emily,
that I, too, may have been just the merest
possible bit in the wrong. I’ve felt it right
along, but I couldn’t admit it, until he— What<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>
shall I wear when he comes to see
me?”</p>
<p>“You might wear the blue gown he
always admires so much.”</p>
<p>“So I might. You know I wore a blue
gown the day he asked me to marry him,
and he said I must keep it always. Of
course, this isn’t the same one, but I am
careful to have each succeeding one the
same color, and he doesn’t know the
difference. Perhaps I have told you this
before.”</p>
<p>“I think you have, dear—once or twice,”
said the girl with the dimple in her chin,
demurely.</p>
<p>“Yes. I don’t mind letting you know,
Emily, that I have missed him a good deal.
Why, I had his photograph—the one I pretended
to have lost, so I needn’t send it
back—out when you knocked at my door
to-day. You couldn’t have helped seeing
me thrust it under Clover’s cushion, if you
hadn’t thought something was wrong with
your boot heel, and stooped down to
see.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span></p>
<p>“You don’t say so. Well, all I’ve got
to say is, I wish I might see Frances’ face
at the wedding!”</p>
<p>“You shall, dear. I’ll ask her to be
bridesmaid, and you, as maid of honor, can
have a good chance to watch her. You
have been such a faithful friend to both
Jack and myself that you deserve at least
that much satisfaction.”</p>
<p>“Look here, Emily and Dorothy, I am
afraid you are not attending strictly to the
discussion,” said the president. “The
topic is— Frances, what on earth has made
you so late?”</p>
<p>“It was all an accident,” said the brown-eyed
blonde; “I stopped for you, Dorothy,
on my way to the club. The maid said
you had gone already, and I was just coming
away when I noticed that your little
dog—what is his name? Rover? Ah,
Clover! I knew it was something like
that—was chewing something at the back
of the hall! I went to see what it was,
and—”</p>
<p>“Oh, my goodness gracious! Not my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>
new sixteen-button gloves,” wailed the
blue-eyed girl. “I’ll give that dog away to-morrow!”</p>
<p>“No, dear, not your gloves. It was a
photograph. Just as I was trying to get
the pieces away from him, Ja—I mean Mr.
Bittersweet—came up the steps with a huge
bunch of violets. He must have seen me
standing in the hall; you know the door
was open.”</p>
<p>“Yes, dear,” said the girl with the dimple
in her chin, “that checked gown of
yours speaks for itself!”</p>
<p>“I—ah, where was I? Oh—he succeeded
in getting the fragments away and—really,
it was too funny! It turned out to be a
photograph of himself! I told him that
I was almost sure that you didn’t give
it to the dog purposely, Dorothy; but I
am afraid I didn’t quite convince him.”</p>
<p>“Indeed; and where are the violets?”
asked the girl with the dimple in her chin;
“you don’t seem to be wearing them!”</p>
<p>“Why, er—no. Ja—I mean Mr. Bittersweet—threw
them at the dog. You will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>
find them right by the stairway, Dorothy,
dear; but I’m afraid they are not in very
good condition. What is to-day’s topic,
Evelyn?”</p>
<p>“‘The Use and Abuse of Political
Power,’” said the president, in a faint
voice. “Will somebody open the window,
please; I need air!”</p>
<p>“Oh, Evelyn,” said the girl with the
Roman nose, after the president had announced
that she felt better, “I do hope
you are not sitting up at night studying,
and that sort of thing.”</p>
<p>“Why, er—no, I believe not. The fact
is I’ve been going to a good many dances
of late on Tom’s account.”</p>
<p>“But Tom doesn’t go, does he?”</p>
<p>“No. B—but everybody knows how
fond of dancing I am; and if I didn’t go
they would say he kept me at home. I
don’t want Tom to pose as a tyrant, you
know!”</p>
<p>“Of course not. You—”</p>
<p>“Yes. The only thing which makes me
feel uncomfortable is the angelic way in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>
which he bears my absence. It isn’t like
Tom, and—”</p>
<p>“Clarence—my cousin you know—was
saying only the other day, that he thought
you an angel to allow Tom and his friends
to smoke in the drawing-room, just because
you happened to be out,” said the girl with
the Roman nose. “I wonder if that—”</p>
<p>“To smoke in the drawing-room!”
shrieked the president, turning pale. “I’ll
go home this minute, and tell him what I
think of such a proceeding. No, I won’t,
either; he is at the office, and it would not
do any good! I never suspected such a
thing and—”</p>
<p>“Oh, well, then the smoke couldn’t
have done the rugs and curtains much harm,
after all, if you never noticed the odor.”</p>
<p>“It’s the principle of the thing, my
dear. What hurts me, is the fact that my
husband respects my wishes so little, when
I only go to dances to keep people from
thinking ill of him, too! Well, one thing
sure, I’ll have all new curtains and carpets—since
mine are ruined with smoke—if he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>
keeps on talking about hard times until he
is black in the face!”</p>
<p>“I wonder why men are always talking
about hard times,” said the girl with the
classic profile; “women never say anything
about them.”</p>
<p>“Unless they are driven to it,” said the
girl with the dimple in her chin. “My sister’s
husband wanted to have his mother
come for a nice, long visit, but she told him
that she hardly thought they could afford it
in such hard times. You see he had just
made that excuse for not doing up the
house.”</p>
<p>“With the result?” queried the girl with
the eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“That he decided to have the house done
up at once! And, after all, the old lady
only stayed about a week. Helen says she
can’t imagine why she went, unless, she
was offended at her suggestion that she
might like to take a course at the cooking-school
while she was here.”</p>
<p>“Well, I don’t blame Helen, at all,”
said the blue-eyed girl. “No man has a right<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>
to be dyspeptic before he is married, and
her husband was. Everybody ought to
have a fair chance, and Helen’s cooking
might not have given it to him for years.”</p>
<p>“At any rate, he can’t blame <i>her</i> for his
dyspepsia—and that is something,” said
the president. “Girls, does any one know
why Josephine has given up her lessons at
the cooking school?”</p>
<p>“I suppose she has made one really good
loaf of bread, and doesn’t want to tempt
fate again,” said the blue-eyed girl.</p>
<p>“That is not the reason,” said the girl
with the eyeglasses, “she is engaged to a
man who knows how to cook, so there is
no use for her to waste any more time
over it. She is studying political economy
now.”</p>
<p>“And a very good thing, too,” said the
girl with the dimple in her chin, “for the
way money is wasted on elections, is really
shocking!”</p>
<p>“Hear! hear!” cried the girl with the
Roman nose. “Of course I don’t want to
have men as members of this club, but I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>
can’t help wishing sometimes that a few of
them might hear Emily and Evelyn when
they are attacking political abuses and
monopolies.”</p>
<p>“For my part, I don’t see why they
haven’t thrust the privilege of suffrage
upon us long ago,” said the girl with the
eyeglasses. “Then they would have somebody
to blame, when civic and national
affairs go wrong!”</p>
<p>“Pshaw,” said the president, “that isn’t
necessary at all. They can come home and
scold because dinner is late, or the hall gas
is unlit, and so relieve their feelings just
the same.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure I don’t want to vote,” said
the girl with the dimple in her chin. “It
is ever so much nicer to do as the men do
with our housekeeping—just criticise that
which we can never display our ignorance
by attempting to do ourselves.”</p>
<p>“That is only your sweet modesty, dear,”
said the girl with the classic profile.
“What do you think Mr. Bonds said the
other day! Ah, I was so indignant! He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>
said it was a mistake to say that women
could not throw stones.”</p>
<p>“I don’t see why you were indignant at
that,” said the brown-eyed blonde. “It
seems to me—”</p>
<p>“It wasn’t that. It was what came
afterward. He said he knew it was a libel
for they could—at each other! And every
man in the room laughed as if he had said
something clever!”</p>
<p>“I declare,” said the brown-eyed blonde,
“it is enough to make a man-hater of me.
If only people would not say that it was because
of some particular man who failed to
admire me—”</p>
<p>“There is no danger of it being laid to
the door of any <i>one</i> man in your case,
dear,” said the blue-eyed girl. “Is that
your new gown that you are wearing to-day,
Frances, dear?”</p>
<p>“Why, yes. Quite a novelty, isn’t it.
How do you like it?”</p>
<p>“Very much indeed, dear. I stopped
and looked at it hanging in the cleaner’s
window the other day, and thought how<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>
well it looked. You remember, don’t
you, Dorothy, my calling your attention to
it?” said the girl with the dimple in her
chin.</p>
<p>“Quite well. I thought at the time that
it was well she had not attempted to clean
it herself. By the way, Helen’s little boy
said such a clever thing the other day. We
were speaking of favorite perfumes, and
how nice it was to always use the same one,
and he said: ‘I know what is Miss Frances’
favorite perfume. Her gloves always smell
of it.’ ‘And what is it?’ Helen asked.
‘Gasoline,’ said the dear little fellow. Did
you ever hear anything so clever in your
life?”</p>
<p>“Oh, girls,” said the president, hastily,
“speaking of gloves: I had a letter from
Pauline the other day, and such a heart-rending
thing had occurred to her. A nice
man was buttoning her gloves one day, and
he said she had the hand of a fairy—Pauline
seemed to think that an original remark.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps it was the first time she had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span>
ever had it said to her,” replied the blue-eyed
girl.</p>
<p>“Um—perhaps it was. She said carelessly,
‘Do you think so? Why, I consider
it quite large. I wear a number six.’ She
was sorry for that afterward.”</p>
<p>“I suppose he looked in the other glove,
and—saw that she had made a mistake,”
said the girl with the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“No, dear. But, shortly after that, they
made a bet of a dozen pairs of gloves, and
Pauline won. Oddly enough, she didn’t
know it until the gloves arrived. They
were number six, and—”</p>
<p>“Pshaw, she could exchange them for a
larger size; he would never know the difference,”
said the girl with the eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“Not in this case, dear. He had had
her monogram embroidered on the top of
each pair. And now he is offended that
she does not wear them!”</p>
<p>“How exactly like a man,” said the girl
with the dimple in her chin. “Now, I
have too high a regard for truth to—”</p>
<p>“Waste it on such a little thing as that?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span>
I know,” said the brown-eyed blonde.
“Well, I hope Pauline’s mishap will be a
warning to you.”</p>
<p>“She might say that she could not accept
such a gift from a masculine friend,”
thoughtfully suggested the girl with the
classic profile.</p>
<p>“But she had thanked him very prettily,
and said they were just her size, and how
did he know it? before she discovered that
she could not exchange them! Oh, I just
don’t see any way out of it. I told Tom
about it, and he said, ‘Pshaw, let her tell
him the truth, and be done with it.’ And
yet Tom is very clever—for a man.”</p>
<p>“Indeed he is,” said the blue-eyed girl,
warmly, “he is one of the few people who
always understands a joke when I tell it.
Just because I leave out a little bit of it,
some people—”</p>
<p>“Oh, girls,” cried the girl with the
classic profile, “I’ve been waiting for a
good chance to tell you that Eunice is
married!”</p>
<p>“Is it possible?” said the girl with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span>
eyeglasses. “I remember that she always
said people ought to know each other very
well before they <i>were</i> married. That was
why she went for a long visit to that Kansas
girl whose brother was so much in love
with her. She married <i>him</i>, I suppose.”</p>
<p>“Why—er—no. You see, he asked her,
and she said she could not give him an answer
until she concluded her visit. They
would know each other much better then.”</p>
<p>“And she refused him, after all?” said
the girl with the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“Well, no. For some reason he failed
to renew his offer, after her visit was over.
She had known the man she married exactly
three weeks when they became engaged.”</p>
<p>“And the engagement lasted?”</p>
<p>“Just a month, dear. And she was so
busy all the time with the trousseau that
she hardly had time for a word with him.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps it was just as well,” said the
brown-eyed blonde. “Has the man she
married any money?”</p>
<p>“I suppose so. He was thirty-four, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span>
a bachelor. A very poor man would have
married long before he was as old as that.
By the way, speaking of the abuse of political
power, Mr. Dickenharry tells Nell that
if he is really elected to the office he hopes
for, she will have to ask all sorts of people
to her receptions, in order that—”</p>
<p>“And what did Nell reply to that?”
asked the blue-eyed girl.</p>
<p>“Oh, she just smiled and let it go. It
will be much easier to manage all that after
they are married. She says he is so busy
now that she doesn’t like to thwart him
unnecessarily. Nell is always so thoughtful
of the feelings of others.”</p>
<p>“Indeed she is,” said the president.
“Anyhow if she is obliged to ask all those
awful people to her receptions, she can snub
them thoroughly if they accept. Oh, she
is just the ideal wife for a politician; how
she will help him!”</p>
<p>“That is just what she says herself,” said
the girl with the dimple in her chin, “and
she also says that she wants to join this
club as soon as her trousseau is off her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span>
mind. She thinks our debates on political
subjects will be of great benefit to her. In
the meantime, she wants me to make
notes of the discussions, and let her have
them.”</p>
<p>“Yes, and let Mr. Dickenharry make use
of all our original ideas in his speeches!”
cried the president, hotly. “I am surprised
at you, Emily, for—”</p>
<p>“Oh, I didn’t say I meant to do it, dear;
I only said she wanted me to. It is so
much easier to promise a thing, and then
forget it, you know. Girls, I went to see
dear old Mrs. Pepperly yesterday, and—”</p>
<p>“What, that cross, disagreeable woman!”
cried the brown-eyed blonde. “What on
earth made you do such a thing?”</p>
<p>“Oh, I always liked her, dear. When I
got there, I was <i>so</i> surprised. Her son is
home from Mexico on a visit, and—”</p>
<p>“Why, don’t you remember, Emily, I
told you that on Sunday?” said the president.
“I mentioned that he had made a
lot of money there, and—”</p>
<p>“How strange of me to forget it; I believe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span>
I do remember it now. We used to
be quite friends before he went away, too;
which makes it all the stranger. Do you
know, I’m afraid I shall have to accept one
of those lovely Mexican opals he brought
with him, or hurt his feelings! I’d hate
to do that, too, when I haven’t seen him
for so long.”</p>
<p>“By the way, what is Mrs. Pepperly’s
number?” asked the brown-eyed blonde.
“I—I have been meaning to call on her for
ever so long. What a clever, original
woman she is!”</p>
<p>“Yes, do go. She said she expected you
would come to see her now. I’m afraid
you will not have an opportunity to see the
opals though. Her son has given all the rest
of them to her, and they are at the jeweler’s
being set. And, by the way, he insisted
so that I had to let him have mine set
for me. I don’t know what Dick will say,
but really I could not hurt the feelings of
such an old friend by refusing—and of
course he knows nothing of Dick!”</p>
<p>“For my part, I consider opals unlucky,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span>
said the brown-eyed blonde. “I wouldn’t
wear one for anything!”</p>
<p>“I’ve heard others say the same thing,
dear,” said the girl with the dimple in her
chin; “but luckily they were people who
were not likely to have the chance! So
far as I am concerned, the good luck of
receiving such a handsome present will
quite overbalance anything unpleasant
which might follow!”</p>
<p>“Nobody ever had such ill luck as I
have, and I never owned an opal in my
life,” wailed the girl with the classic profile.
“You know how unpleasant my Aunt
Clara is, don’t you? Well, the poor old
soul seemed so lonely in that great big
house that I asked her to make me a nice
long visit, knowing that she intended to go
abroad soon, and—”</p>
<p>“She might take you along. Good!”
said the girl with the Roman nose. “Did
she accept?”</p>
<p>“She did. Said she would stay three
whole months. At the end of that time,
she expects to marry a delicate clergyman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>
with three grown daughters, and take the
whole party to Europe.”</p>
<p>“And that is all the compensation you
receive for thinking of others!” cried the
girl with the Roman nose. “Shall you let
her come?”</p>
<p>“I shall not. I shall tell her that unless
she hears from me within two weeks, she
may know that I am down with a threatened
attack of scarlet fever. She has a horror
of illness, and wild horses couldn’t drag
her here after that. But I shall have an
exciting time with my sire, if he ever finds
it out!”</p>
<p>“Humph, your father may never find it
out,” said the girl with the eyeglasses;
“and if he did, you could simply say that
you really thought you were getting scarlet
fever, and only concealed the fact from him
to save him anxiety.”</p>
<p>“Pardon me, but you forget that I am a
younger daughter. Papa has already had
so much experience with my sisters that I
have to be very careful in my explanations.
This thing of being the third daughter is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span>
as bad as marrying a widower—worse, for
that is voluntary.”</p>
<p>“Not always—on the part of the widower,”
said the blue-eyed girl. “Dear,
dear, how queer some things are! I know
a pair of twins, and one of them is called an
old maid, the other a young widow. If
anybody can explain—”</p>
<p>“Pshaw, I know a brother and sister who
have hair of the same identical shade. He
is called red-headed while she is a Titian
blonde,” said the girl with the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“And I went to school with a girl who
was always called snub-nosed by everybody
but the man she married,” said the girl
with the dimple in her chin; “he said her
nose was ‘tip-tilted, like the petal of a
flower.’ Can you explain that?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” said the president, shortly, “she
has money. Oh, girls, I went to the photographer’s
last week, and I haven’t had
the courage even to snub my sister-in-law
since I got the proofs. Indeed, sometimes
I almost feel grateful to Tom for marrying
me—though of course I don’t let him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>
know that. You have no idea how I felt
when—”</p>
<p>“Oh, yes, I have,” said the blue-eyed
girl, with a shudder. “I once knew an
awfully nice man, who turned out to be an
amateur photographer. He took two hundred
and seventy-five pictures of me one
summer, and I used to know just who my
enemies were. They would pretend that
they recognized me in them all!”</p>
<p>“That’s nothing,” said the girl with the
dimple in her chin. “I once appeared as
Cinderella at a charity entertainment, and
an amateur photographer took a picture of
me in costume. My foot was thrust forward,
and oh, girls, it looked the size of a
pumpkin. And the photographer actually
took credit to himself because the face was
an excellent likeness!”</p>
<p>“I was once photographed by an amateur,”
said the brown-eyed blonde; “he
said my picture was his masterpiece. I
always keep it on my dressing table during
Lent,” she added.</p>
<p>“I once knew an amateur photographer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span>
quite well,” said the girl with classic profile,
“but for each photograph he took of
me I made one of him!”</p>
<p>“With the result—” said the president.</p>
<p>“That he gladly bartered his collection
for mine. Somehow, we haven’t been
very good friends since. I often think
things might have turned out very differently
if he hadn’t bought that camera;”
and she sighed, softly.</p>
<p>“Well, girls,” said the president, “I am
afraid that we must adjourn, though I had
hoped we might find time for a social session
after the day’s work was concluded.
However, I promised both Tom and the
dressmaker that I’d meet them at five
o’clock. She won’t wait, and he will; so
I—”</p>
<p>“But why not make him go to the dressmaker’s
with you,” said the brown-eyed
blonde.</p>
<p>“Because I want to tell him just what I
think of his behavior—smoking in the drawing-room,
just because I happened to be
out. If he once heard Madame contradict<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span>
me in the way she does, I could never hope
to produce any impression on him again.”</p>
<p>Emily and Dorothy walked home in
silence, and the former noticed, with alarm,
that Dorothy did not attempt to protect
her skirts from the mud. When they
reached her door, she turned and said:</p>
<p>“If I am not here when you come to-morrow,
you may know that I have gone to
take up social settlement work, and devote
my time to the poor. If you never see me
again, you may know that I forgive all my
enemies. It may make Frances feel better,
though I must say that she does not
deserve it.”</p>
<p>“And Jack, dear; what shall I say to
him?”</p>
<p>“If it is any comfort to him, you might
say that I do not regret my fruitless efforts
to make peace with him. I hope you will
think of me sometimes at work among the
poor and the afflicted. And now, good-bye—perhaps
forever!”</p>
<p>Emily had walked perhaps a block, when
she heard her name called once more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></p>
<p>“Yes, what is it,” she said.</p>
<p>“If you know any one who wants a nice
little dog, send him to me. I—”</p>
<p>“What! You surely don’t mean
Clover?”</p>
<p>“I just do. After what has happened
to-day, I never want to see the little beast
again! And, Emily—!”</p>
<p>“Yes, dear.”</p>
<p>“If you were in my place, would you
wear the blue or the geranium pink gown
at the dance to-night?”</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="chapter"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p>
<h2>Chapter X<br />
<small>Woman as a Parliamentarian</small></h2>
<p>“Oh, dear me,” said the president, “I
don’t see why men can never understand
things.”</p>
<p>“H’m,” said the brown-eyed blonde.
“Are we to understand that you have just
discovered that fact?”</p>
<p>“Of course not,” said the president,
“but I’ve just had an argument with my
husband—that’s why I am late to-day,
girls. He will insist that this club ought to
have a constitution and by-laws, and a lot
of other unnecessary things, in spite of the
fact that we get along nicely just as well
without them.”</p>
<p>“I suppose he would like to draft them
for us,” said the girl with the dimple in her
chin. “That is always the way with men.
When they see women doing anything well<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>
they always want to come in, and take the
credit of it.”</p>
<p>“So they do,” said the girl with the
classic profile. “I suppose he would want
us to have parliamentary rules, too—as if
anybody would obey them! Anyhow, it is
only a man who can do but one thing at a
time. I suppose it is necessary in a club of
men that only one person have the floor at
a time, and all that sort of thing.”</p>
<p>“I suppose it is,” said the president, “no
man that ever lived could tell what anybody
else was saying while he was talking himself.
Well, I only wish they could see how
orderly our meetings are, and how well we
keep to the subject in hand, without any
rules or regulations. By the way, let us
discuss ‘Woman as a Parliamentarian’ to-day.
What do you say?”</p>
<p>“Oh, pshaw,” said the girl with the
Roman nose, “you said the subject was to
be ‘Woman as a Factor in the Business
World,’ and I was to speak on it.”</p>
<p>“Oh, well, you can use the same line of
argument, anyhow; I forgot to tell you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>
that I had changed my mind. Girls, do be
quiet while she reads her paper on—”</p>
<p>“Oh, but I am not prepared, anyhow,”
said the girl with the Roman nose. “I was
obliged to stop in the midst of it to write
the invitations for my five o’clock tea. A
nice job it was, too, for I just couldn’t get
all I wanted to say on a card!”</p>
<p>“Why, I heard a man saying only the
other day, that you write the most charming
notes he ever read,” said the girl with
the classic profile.</p>
<p>“Thank you for telling me, dear. I shall
use the telephone exclusively after this—the
idea of living to know that everybody
says when you are spoken of, ‘Yes, what
charming notes she does write.’ Think of
knowing that you are expected to be brilliant
when you write to say you can’t come
to dinner because your face is swollen, or
to ask how to take coffee stains out of your
new evening gown.”</p>
<p>“I know all about that,” groaned the
brown-eyed blonde; “once in an evil hour
somebody called me ‘vivacious,’ and I’ve<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span>
cultivated three wrinkles in trying to live
up to it. Think of having to be vivacious
at a church sociable, or when the man to
whom you have just been revealing your
views on the subject of friendship turns out
to be engaged!”</p>
<p>“Awful!” shuddered the girl with the eyeglasses,
“but pity me, all of you. People
who like me always say that I am a delightful
conversationalist; those who do not,
simply remark that I talk all the time.
Sometimes, when I am low-spirited, it seems
to me that there is not much difference between
the two.”</p>
<p>“Yes, but think of me!” moaned the
girl with the dimple in her chin. “Somebody
once discovered that I had a ‘little
head running over with curls,’ I calculate
that I have spent a fortune in patent curlers
and alcohol lamps since then!”</p>
<p>“I suppose that is why you wouldn’t go
to the seashore with me last summer,” remarked
the president. “Well, for my part,
I only wish I knew who it was that first
called me a ‘nice little woman’—it’s as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span>
bad as being named Smith or living in a
row!”</p>
<p>“Pshaw, I wouldn’t mind that a bit,”
said the girl with the Roman nose, “there’s
nothing like a reputation for amiability—you
can be as ill-natured as you please,
once it is gained.”</p>
<p>“Humph, you seem to forget that I have
a husband to remind me of things,” said
the president. “Well, there is one person
I don’t envy, and that is Barbara.”</p>
<p>“Humph, I don’t think she is so beautiful,”
said the girl with the Roman nose;
“for my part, I think her nose might be
called a snub.”</p>
<p>“Neither do I,” said the girl with the
dimple in her chin; “the lower part of her
face is actually coarse.”</p>
<p>“Say what you please,” said the president,
“she has the reputation of being a
beauty, and if she doesn’t look as well as
usual she just has to stay at home. She
has a cold now, and her complexion is
awful.”</p>
<p>“Is it?” said the girl with the Roman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span>
nose, “I must certainly stop in to see her
to-day. I never saw her when she had a
really bad cold.”</p>
<p>“And so shall I,” said the brown-eyed
blonde, “she really ought not to be
neglected when she is ill.”</p>
<p>“I shall go, too,” said the girl with the
dimple in her chin. “And by the way, Dick
has been teasing for an introduction to her
for ever so long. This will be the very
time to take him to call on her—when she
is certain to be at home, I mean.”</p>
<p>“I understand,” said the president; “it
is very thoughtful of you to want to cheer
up the poor thing. Girls, shouldn’t you
love to see her face when she finds that
Emily has brought a strange man to call
when her complexion is in such a condition.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I don’t suppose that she will mind
Dick,” said the brown-eyed blonde; “nobody
else does, you know.”</p>
<p>“Very true,” said the girl with the dimple
in her chin, sweetly. “Of course he
has eyes for nobody else when I am in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>
room; but I did not expect you, Frances,
to acknowledge as much.”</p>
<p>“Why, Dorothy,” cried the president,
“here you are, at last! It isn’t like you
to keep anybody waiting—that is, of course,
except a man; they are accustomed to it,
and—”</p>
<p>“Why, does Dorothy ever keep a man
waiting?” said the brown-eyed blonde,
elevating her eyebrows. “I had understood
that she usually met them in the
front hall when—”</p>
<p>“Yes, dear, but then I am always dressed
to see masculine callers. I have so many,
you know. Why, Evelyn, I would not
have been late for the world, but my new
gown—”</p>
<p>“I’m sure I don’t blame you for it,
dear. I couldn’t have helped making a
dramatic entry in such a poem myself.”</p>
<p>“But it wasn’t that which made me late,
dear. I fancied there was a tiny wrinkle in
the back of the waist. After examining it
in every mirror in the house, I discovered
that it was only the way I twisted my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>
shoulders to look at it, which made the
wrinkle.”</p>
<p>“Well, I am glad that your mind is at
rest about it, anyhow,” said the girl with
the eyeglasses, “one’s back is so defenseless.
Annie once sat behind me at the theater,
and I endured agonies lest the bow at
the back of my collar was crooked. When
we came away, I found that she had actually
been so absorbed in the people on the
stage that she didn’t know I was there. I
had been wanting to see that play for
months, and, to save my life, I couldn’t
have told you a thing in it after I saw it.”</p>
<p>“I know just how you felt,” said the
president, “I once went to a matinée with
Eustace just before Tom and I were married,
and I expected to have great fun, because
there was so much danger of being
found out. Toward the end of the first
act, I heard that horrid Miss Blanque in the
seat back of me, saying, ‘Oh, Tom, what
would she say if she knew!’ I can tell you
that my blood boiled when I thought of
such duplicity, and I was tempted to turn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span>
and wither them on the spot with a single
glance!”</p>
<p>“And did you?” eagerly asked the girl
with the classic profile.</p>
<p>“Why—er, no. I thought Tom might
ask why I had come with Eustace, though
that was very different.”</p>
<p>“Very different, indeed,” said the blue-eyed
girl. “And did you—”</p>
<p>“Oh, I didn’t enjoy that play a bit. I
told Eustace I had a headache at the end
of the second act, and—”</p>
<p>“No doubt by that time it was true
enough. Such duplicity in one whom you
trusted was—”</p>
<p>“Yes. And he had always said he did
not admire Miss Blanque at all. Well, I
went home and wrote him a scorching note.
I said that but for Eustace, I should never
have discovered that he was flirting with
another girl while pretending to think of
nobody but me!”</p>
<p>“That was quite right. I hope he was
ashamed of himself!”</p>
<p>“Well, no; he wasn’t. He had been at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span>
a stockholder’s meeting all that afternoon.
My own father was there, and he called
him as a witness! And I actually had to
explain why I had gone to the matinée with
Eustace!”</p>
<p>“Oh, my goodness, how awful!” cried
the girl with the Roman nose. “But you
said you heard Miss Blanque call him
Tom!”</p>
<p>“So I did. It was Tom Dashaway who
was engaged to Elaine. And wasn’t it a
joke? She never found him out at all!”</p>
<p>“It is awfully hard to get ahead of a
man,” sighed the girl with the classic profile;
“and it is the irony of fate that when
one <i>does</i> succeed in doing it, the victory is
usually of such a character that, in order to
retain it, one must say nothing at all about
it!”</p>
<p>“Very true,” said the girl with the eyeglasses.
“Oh, I am so enraged with Harold
that I feel ready to die! I had an engagement
with him on Saturday afternoon,
and I forgot all about it and went out with
Marie. I never thought of him at all until<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span>
I saw him coming up the street, and then I
dragged Marie into a shop. I was so excited
that she thought a mad dog was coming,
and almost created a scene!”</p>
<p>“And did he recognize you?” asked the
blue-eyed girl.</p>
<p>“I’m afraid so. He didn’t come, as
usual, on Sunday; and I took the dilemma
by the horns, and wrote him a note, saying
that I remained at home all Saturday afternoon
expecting him; and why didn’t he
come, as he had promised?”</p>
<p>“Good idea!” said the girl with the dimple
in her chin; “then, he would think he
had mistaken some one else for you. You
could pretend to be very much offended at
that, and so snatch victory from the very
jaws of defeat.”</p>
<p>“So I thought. But his reply—oh, I
knew I should die of rage! It said: ‘My
dear Miss Marion: Pray pardon me for
quite overlooking my engagement with you
on Saturday afternoon. Yes, I know you
were at home—for I saw you at the window
as I passed!’ And as long as I live, I shall<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>
never be able to tell that man what I really
think of him!”</p>
<p>“Never mind, you can tell everybody else—and
that is almost as satisfying,” said the
president; “more so, perhaps; for then you
need not hear what he has to say in
reply.”</p>
<p>“I am so glad to see you looking so well
to-day, Dorothy, dear,” whispered the girl
with the dimple in her chin; “it pleases me
to see that you still take an interest in
dress, and—”</p>
<p>“Pray, why shouldn’t I take an interest
in dress? Really, Emily Marshmallow, you
are the queerest girl I ever did see! Here,
you see me trying to conceal my poor
broken heart with smiles, and then you begrudge
me the slight pleasure I take in appearing
decently clad. And when I mean
to go and teach in a free kindergarten—well,
next week, and wear a black gown
with white collar and cuffs for the rest of
my natural life!”</p>
<p>“I’m sure I don’t mean to begrudge
you anything, dear. And Jack says that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>
he is sure that if you would just see him,
he could explain the whole thing—”</p>
<p>“Of course, you have been on his side all
along. That is the way of the world;
everybody sympathizes with the one who
is in fault, and—”</p>
<p>“He said that he was hurrying to catch
up with you on the street yesterday, and
that Frances—this is what he says, dear—not
knowing what he was doing, called him
to rescue her hat, which had blown away.
By the time he had done it, you were out
of sight. You see, Dorothy, he seems to
fancy that you are—well, rather nice to
Clarence, and—”</p>
<p>“Oh, I thought Clarence was coming.
So I am rather nice to the one human being
who really understands me, am I? Well,
you may just tell Jack Bittersweet that I
shall keep on being nice to him as long as I
choose—and he might know me well enough
by this time to be sure that I shall keep my
word!”</p>
<p>“Dear me, Dorothy, you surely are not
crying, are you?” cried the brown-eyed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span>
blonde. “Do tell me what is wrong; perhaps
I can help you.”</p>
<p>“I am afraid not, dear. I was just telling
Emily that there is so much trouble in
the world that I sometimes feel actually
guilty when I think of my own absolutely
cloudless existence! By the way, have you
heard that Clarence Lighthed has just
bought that pretty place in Astor Street,
which was for sale? He must think that
my knowledge of architecture is valuable,
for he told his agent to make an offer for it
just because I admired it so much!”</p>
<p>“Poor Effie Bittersweet,” said the president.
“I—ah, I don’t know what has made
me think of <i>her</i> just at this time, but Madame
told me yesterday that she had been
obliged to alter all her gowns for her. They
are a full half-inch too loose, she says!”</p>
<p>“Really? Is Effie ill?” cried the blue-eyed
girl, in surprise. “How odd that you
never thought to mention it, Frances! I
should have gone to see her immediately,
had I known it. Pray, tell her so when
you see her next.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span></p>
<p>“If you are so anxious to see her, why
not go with me, and tell her so, yourself,”
said the brown-eyed blonde, dryly.</p>
<p>“In this gown? and when all of hers are
at the dressmaker’s! I couldn’t think of
doing such a mean thing. I only thought
that as you are always at her house, you
could take a message for me; that is all.”</p>
<p>“Tom says Clarence asked him the other
day, if he didn’t consider that the best
thing a fellow could do was to marry some
nice girl, and settle down,” said the president,
suddenly.</p>
<p>“Yes? And what did Tom say?” asked
the girl with the dimple in her chin.</p>
<p>“He must have said ‘yes,’ dear; otherwise
he wouldn’t have dared to mention
the occurrence to me at all.”</p>
<p>“What <i>I</i> am wondering,” said the blue-eyed
girl, innocently, “is: what on earth
made Clarence ask him such a question?”</p>
<p>“Sheer curiosity, dear,” said the brown-eyed
blonde, sweetly; “what other reason
could he possibly have had? By the way,
girls, have you noticed that Marie is showing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>
great strength of character lately? She
has broken with Mr. Mushley, and actually
refused to send back any of his presents.
She says the sight of them could not fail to
remind him of his loss, and she would rather
have people speak unkindly of her than
cause him unnecessary pain!”</p>
<p>“How sweet of her,” said the girl with
the Roman nose. “I only hope he will
appreciate her consideration. Girls, what
do you think Elizabeth told me the other
day? Why, that all the photographs of
girls my brother saw when he called on
Fred belonged to a man with whom he
used to room, and he was only keeping them
until he happened to run across him again.”</p>
<p>“And she believed him?” said the girl
with the dimple in her chin, scornfully.
“How silly some girls are, to be sure!
They believe anything a man tells them.
To be sure, Dick was telling me the truth
when he said that he only wrote all those
sonnets to Clara as a joke; but that was
very different.”</p>
<p>“Very different,” said the girl with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>
classic profile. “Girls, I heard to-day that
Jack Bittersweet is thinking of throwing up
his partnership, and emigrating to Australia.
I beg your pardon, Dorothy, did
you speak?”</p>
<p>“Yes, dear, I was about to say that I
think ‘Woman as a Parliamentarian’ is the
most interesting topic we have ever discussed.
By the way, I wonder if the climate
of Australia is as unhealthy as some
people think! I—I am so fond of Effie
that I should hate to have anything happen
to her brother.”</p>
<p>“I think Effie could bear it, dear,” said
the president, “even in her present state of
health. She says Jack is so cross that a
hyena would be amiable by comparison.”</p>
<p>“Jack Bittersweet cross!” cried the
brown-eyed blonde. “Why, he is one of
the nicest fellows I ever knew, and—”</p>
<p>“But after all, you are hardly a judge of
masculine dispositions, dear,” said the girl
with the dimple in her chin. “Your acquaintance
with the sex has been so limited,
you know. Oh, Evelyn, I’ve been intending<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>
to ask you if we can’t take up theosophy,
and discuss it thoroughly at one of our
meetings in the near future. I am so anxious
for a thorough knowledge of it.”</p>
<p>“Indeed we can,” cried the president,
heartily. “You don’t know how pleased I
am to hear you say that, Emily,—well, if
there is one thing this club can safely pride
itself upon it is its thoroughness; and I
am sure that is more than most organizations
can do—!”</p>
<p>“I know it,” said the blue-eyed girl;
“why, my father belongs to a club which
has taken six months to study the financial
problems of Europe and the United States.
They are not yet through discussing the
subject—and yet they have the temerity to
call themselves students!”</p>
<p>“I hope you have pointed out to them
the superiority of our system over—”</p>
<p>“Well, no, dear; somehow it does not
seem wise to discuss such a subject with
one’s father. Dear, dear, do you suppose
that girls were so very different in the days
when our fathers were young?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span></p>
<p>“Humph, no,” said the girl with the
Roman nose, “but they were much more
afraid of remaining single. Besides, our
fathers were young, too, in those days, and
ever so much easier to please. Still,” she
added, thoughtfully, “I don’t know that
it is altogether that. No one is so easily
subjugated as an elderly man who has become
a widower. It is so long since girls
have really tried to make themselves agreeable
to him, that all their little ways are
new to him.”</p>
<p>“H’m, yes—unless he has grown daughters
of his own,” said the brown-eyed
blonde.</p>
<p>“I don’t see what difference that makes.
They don’t try their little ways of—of being
nice on <i>him;</i> and seeing them tried on
some one else is very different.”</p>
<p>“Isn’t it?” said the girl with the classic
profile. “Now, for instance, it is very interesting
to have a man pay one compliments;
but how it does bore one to hear
him say the very same things about another
girl!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span></p>
<p>“Doesn’t it? and yet, such is the selfishness
of man, that he expects one to be as
much interested,” said the girl with the
eyeglasses.</p>
<p>“Oh, girls,” cried the girl with the dimple
in her chin, “you know that old Mrs.
Myllons is always making presents to Barbara
and me! Well, one day in the beginning
of the season she called for me to go
shopping with her. Of course, I went.
Now, it was not long after Barbara had encouraged
her to give me that awful picture
of Burns, and I was as eager for her to
select a present for Barbara as for me. I
knew I could direct her choice in either
case. To my joy, she stopped to look at
silks, and her choice fell upon a hideous
piece of green which would demolish Barbara’s
complexion completely—and I really
think that girl would sooner part with her
life than her complexion. I managed to
convey to Mrs. Myllons my personal preference
for a lovely pink which cost a dollar less
a yard, while encouraging her to buy the
green. You see she was planning her reception,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span>
and Barbara and I were to assist
her on that occasion.”</p>
<p>“So she took it, did she?” said the president.
“I only hope I may see Barbara in
the green!”</p>
<p>“You never will,” wailed the girl with
the dimple in her chin—“it was for me!
Mrs. Myllons sent it with a lovely note
complimenting me on my unselfishness in
wishing Barbara to have the handsomer
piece. I dare not refuse to wear it at the
reception; and my own father actually says
it serves me right for trying to play a joke
on Barbara!”</p>
<p>“You must not expect sympathy from
your father, dear,” said the girl with the
Roman nose; “he will expect you to wear
that gown all season, to save buying another.
And nothing will ever happen to it,
either,” she added. “It is only the gown
that is dearer to you than life itself which
has a fatal attraction for cups of coffee or
fowls carved by inexperienced hosts!”</p>
<p>“Did I ever tell you of the awful thing
which happened to me last winter?” said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span>
the girl with the classic profile. “I believe
not, though; we hadn’t started our club
then. Well, I just had to have a new
gown, and I was so afraid that my father
wouldn’t give it to me that I got it without
saying a word to him. I knew that
even if there was a cyclone over the bill
I’d have the gown anyhow. That being
the case, I got a much handsomer one than
I would have chosen under other circumstances.”</p>
<p>“Quite right,” said the president; “if
there must be an unpleasant scene, better
have it over something which will fully
repay one.”</p>
<p>“So I thought. Well, the gown only
came home the evening of my sister’s
dance; and I really wanted to enjoy that,
so I decided not to give papa the bill until
the next day, though the dressmaker was in
a great hurry for her money.”</p>
<p>“They always are,” sighed the president.</p>
<p>“Yes. I was having a lovely time until
supper was served, and then Mr. Rocksby
emptied a plate of lobster salad over the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span>
whole front of my new gown! Florence
was near; she never got farther away from
him than—than she could help; and—well,
you all know how he admires amiability!
He apologized profusely, and I, smilingly,
said, ‘Oh, it doesn’t make the least difference.
The gown is of no value at all, and
I should probably never have worn it again,
anyhow.’”</p>
<p>“How lovely of you!” said the blue-eyed
girl. “It must have made a deep impression
upon him.”</p>
<p>“H’m, I don’t know about that; but it
did upon me. I happened to turn my head
just then, and papa was at my elbow! I’d
rather not tell you the things he said when
I gave him the bill for that gown the next
morning!”</p>
<p>“We can all guess,” said the blue-eyed
girl, with a shudder. “But wasn’t Mr.
Rocksby awfully nice to you after that?”</p>
<p>“No, he wasn’t. He said that the girl
who cared nothing for the destruction of
such a handsome gown was too extravagant
to make a good wife for a poor man!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span>
And the hardest part of it all was the fact
that he must have lots of money, else he
never on earth would speak of himself as
‘a poor man!’”</p>
<p>“Let us hope your father never found
that out,” said the president, in devout
tones.</p>
<p>“But he did. He overheard Mr. Rocksby
saying it to Florence; and that was one
of the things he mentioned when I gave
him the bill.”</p>
<p>“You poor dear!” said the president. “I
declare it really depresses me to hear of
such persistent ill-luck. Well, girls, since
we have thoroughly exhausted our subject,
I think we may just as well adjourn.”</p>
<p>The blue-eyed girl went home with the
girl with the dimple in her chin, and after
they had begun to sip their tea, she said:</p>
<p>“Is it true that Jack intends to go to
Australia unless our quarrel is made up?”</p>
<p>“He—he <i>says</i> he will,” was the cautious
reply.</p>
<p>“Then, I want to know what you intend
to do in the matter?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span></p>
<p>“What I—intend to do in the matter?”
she gasped.</p>
<p>“Yes. Of course it is thoroughly in your
hands. I have not made a single move
without consulting you, and being guided
by your advice. And if the quarrel is
never made up, and I die of a broken heart,
it will be entirely your fault!”</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="chapter"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span></p>
<h2>Chapter XII<br />
<small>The Club Investigates Theosophy</small></h2>
<p>“We will discuss to-day: ‘What Theosophy
Really Teaches,’” said the president, as
soon as she could make herself heard.
“You expressed an earnest wish to study
it,’ Emily, and—”</p>
<p>“Did I?” asked the girl with the dimple
in her chin, looking surprised. “I had quite
forgotten it. However, I have been so
busy with my new hats and the chairmanship
of a committee appointed to instruct
tenement house mothers as to the best
method of bringing up children, that I have
had no time for anything else.”</p>
<p>“And no wonder,” said the girl with the
classic profile. “How grateful those poor
ignorant people must be for your instruction!”</p>
<p>“M—I don’t know about that. At<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span>
times, I am very much discouraged. One
woman said she would gladly allow her children
to wear two fresh aprons a day, if I
would pay for the washing of them. Another
said that she had already raised six
children without my assistance, and she believed
she could worry on without it a bit
longer. Still another was so stupid that
she couldn’t be made to understand how
I, who had never had any children, was
able to offer her such valuable suggestions.”</p>
<p>“As if it depended on experience,” said
the president. “The theory is ever so much
more important.”</p>
<p>“That was what I said to the woman
who— You knew that I had resigned
from that same committee, didn’t you?”
said the girl with the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“Why, no; this is the first I have heard
of it. And you were so enthusiastic, too!
What on earth has made you change your
mind?”</p>
<p>“A woman. She—”</p>
<p>“Oh! I thought, perhaps, it was a
man,” said the brown-eyed blonde.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span></p>
<p>“No. I am not as easily influenced as
you are, dear. This woman lived up six
flights of the dirtiest stairs I ever saw. I
wondered at the time why she didn’t ask
the landlord to have an elevator put in;
probably she hadn’t thought of it. She
lived in two rooms, and you never saw such
awful poverty in your life. I thought, as
she was so awfully poor, she couldn’t have
much feeling, so I told her plainly that she
could never expect her children to love and
honor her if she did not at once give them
each a hot bath, and put up fresh curtains
and a pot or two of flowers in the windows.
Everybody knows how cheap curtains are
nowadays—not the real lace ones, of course,
but—”</p>
<p>“Tamboured muslin and all that,” said
the president. “Was she grateful for your
interest in her?”</p>
<p>“I fear not. She looked at me, earnestly,
and said: ‘You’ve been to one of
them, haven’t you? I’ve always wanted
to see somebody that had!’”</p>
<p>“Was the woman mad?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span></p>
<p>“I was afraid so, and I began to back
out of the door, when she called, ‘Mary
Ellen! oh, Mary Ellen! come right in here
this minute! Here is a lady who has been
to one of them there beauty doctors we was
talking about yesterday! She must be awful
old, for she’s brought up a lot of children;
and come here to teach me how to raise
mine; and if that beauty doctor ain’t fixed
her up so she looks real young!’”</p>
<p>“And did Mary Ellen come?” asked the
girl with the dimple in her chin, sympathetically.</p>
<p>“I don’t know. I didn’t wait; but I
am almost sure I heard several people
laughing as I came down-stairs. After this,
I shall devote my energies to foreign missions
or something like that. If the heathens
are not grateful for my efforts in their
behalf, they at least express themselves in
a tongue I don’t understand; and they are
too far away for me to hear them, even if I
<i>could</i> understand!”</p>
<p>“Their ingratitude is awful,” wailed the
president. “Well, I’m glad you have told<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span>
me all this. Otherwise, I never could have
had courage to tell you my last experience
with visiting the dwellers in the slums as a
member of the ‘Society for Procuring Better
Ventilation in Other People’s Bedrooms!’
I called on one woman, who really
seemed impressed by my arguments; she
was quite polite, and never took her eyes
off my bonnet all the time I was talking to
her. I was so pleased with her that I gave
her my address, and told her I would let
her have a lot of pamphlets on the subject,
if she would send for them. I knew I
could not get one of my maids to carry
them into that district, and besides her
husband could easily come for them. He
was a street paver, and no doubt would be
glad to get the exercise.”</p>
<p>“Of course,” said the blue-eyed girl.
“Did he come?”</p>
<p>“No. But she herself walked in on my
reception day a few weeks later. She wore
a bonnet which was a perfect caricature of
mine. She said she hoped I would forgive
her for delaying the returning of my call so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span>
long; and didn’t I think my reception-room
was too warm to be quite healthy?”</p>
<p>“Did you ever hear of such impertinence!
and in your own house, too!”
said the girl with the eyeglasses. “What did
the other members of the society say?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know. I resigned, by telephone,
as soon as Tom and the doctor succeeded
in bringing me out of my fainting
fit.”</p>
<p>“And no wonder,” said the girl with the
dimple in her chin, sympathetically. “And
yet, people complain that we take so little
interest in the poor! Only a real philanthropist
can appreciate the rebuffs we receive.
The only thing which helps us to
bear them, is the knowledge that we are
doing such incalculable good.”</p>
<p>“It is very sweet and good of you to feel
so,” sighed the girl with the eyeglasses.
“I don’t know that I am quite so magnanimous,
myself. Oh, Catharine, dear; you
were speaking of Mr. Rocksby the other
day. Did you ever hear the end of his affair
with Florence?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span></p>
<p>“Why, no,” said the girl with the classic
profile. “I only knew that it <i>had</i> an end.
How on earth did you find out about it?”</p>
<p>“I heard that she and Effie had fallen
out, and I asked Effie all about it. Of
course she was glad enough to tell. It
seems that there was a dance at the club in
Arcadia, and Florence went out to stay
with the Brownstones and attend it. Mr.
Rocksby happened to meet her at the station,
and went out with her, intending to
return by the next train. It turned out
that there was no train back until midnight,
so the Brownstones invited him to dine and
go to the dance with them. They even
brought out a dress coat of Mr. Brownstone’s
for him to wear, and Florence told
Effie that he looked as if he weighed twenty
pounds less when he put it on.”</p>
<p>“It’s really wonderful the way people
always help Florence along,” sighed the
girl with the classic profile. “Nobody ever
does such things for <i>me</i>.”</p>
<p>“I fancy Florence wishes they hadn’t
for <i>her</i>, dear. Well, he was lovely to her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span>
at the dance, and after a while he coaxed
her out on the balcony for a quiet talk.
Before she fairly knew what he was about,
he had fallen heavily on his knees and said,
‘Florence, I—’ when she heard the queerest
sound, and he sprang to his feet, with his
hand on his back!”</p>
<p>“Good gracious, I hope the poor old
soul hadn’t hurt himself?”</p>
<p>“No; I believe not. But he had split
Mr. Brownstone’s dress coat from top to
bottom. And though Florence tried her
very best, she never could coax him to finish
the sentence he had just begun!”</p>
<p>“Poor Florence! No wonder she says now
she thinks a man looks better in cycling
garb than anything else. The sight of a
dress coat must be enough to make her ill.”</p>
<p>“I should think so,” said the president.
“By the way, speaking of theosophy, I
wonder why its stout and elderly devotees
wear such flowing white robes? The
younger ones seem content with short
hair and general dowdiness.”</p>
<p>“Good gracious, you will be wondering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span>
next why politicians always wear diamonds
or why dressmakers invariably appear in
old-fashioned gowns,” said the girl with the
Roman nose; “and I must say, frankly, that
I can’t answer either of those questions.
By the way, Evelyn, I suppose I am to
congratulate you. I hear that Tom has
just inherited ten thousand dollars.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know whether you may congratulate
me, or not,” said the president.
“Sometimes, I—”</p>
<p>“Oh! Then, there is no truth in the
report?”</p>
<p>“Yes, it is true enough, but I don’t
know whether I am to be congratulated or
not. You see, I was getting along very
well as we were, and now I see that I need
a lot of things I never thought of before—more
than the extra income could possibly
cover—and I shall be absolutely wretched
unless I can have them.”</p>
<p>“But you will have some of them, anyhow,
won’t you?”</p>
<p>“I’m not sure. Tom talks now of putting
all the money into his business. In<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span>
that case he will be obliged to work harder,
because he will have more at stake; he
says, also, that I shall have to be more
economical than ever because every cent
will be needed to extend his operations.
On the whole,” she added, thoughtfully,
“I am rather sorry his aunt is
dead. It was ever so much nicer when
she was living, and I could spend the
expected legacy royally, in imagination, at
least.”</p>
<p>“You poor dear; to think of having cause
to regret the death of a wealthy relative,”
said the blue-eyed girl, “but—er—couldn’t
Tom put you on the pay-roll as a clerk, or
something?”</p>
<p>“I did suggest that; but he said he’d
rather pay me a salary to stay out of
the office. I haven’t spoken to him
since.”</p>
<p>“Do you know, I always think it a mistake
to stop speaking to any one,” said the
blue-eyed girl; “it seems unkind, and then
one loses the opportunity to say unpleasant
things to them, too.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span></p>
<p>“I believe you are right,” said the president.
“No married man seems to appreciate
speechless indignation, anyhow.”</p>
<p>“I must see you alone a moment, Emily,
dear,” whispered the blue-eyed girl. “Can’t
you come with me down to the other end
of the room, and let me pretend to straighten
your hair?”</p>
<p>“With pleasure, dear,” replied Emily,
but there was no alacrity in her voice;
“only we must not stay too long lest
Frances suspect something.”</p>
<p>“What if she does? She would only think
we are talking about her—and I doubt if
that would make her particularly comfortable.
It is about Jack. Perhaps, you can
pardon his behavior, but for me the last
link which bound us is broken, and I feel
now that I can start for India as a missionary
without a pang!”</p>
<p>“My goodness, what has he done now?
I’ve been afraid all along, Dorothy, that
you would put off the reconciliation too
long. While he confines his attentions to
Frances, it is all right; but some time he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span>
will find out that there are a number of nice
girls in the world, and—”</p>
<p>“Frances has nothing to do with it,” she
replied, with great dignity. “It happened
this way: I was coming home about dusk
yesterday—you remember how it rained,
don’t you? Well, I was so miserable that I
didn’t even attempt to hold up my skirts—it
was a kind of a comfort to let them get
thoroughly draggled. A gust of wind blew
my umbrella to one side, and I saw Jack
and Mr. Bonds just ahead of me. By the
way, did you ever notice that—er—there is
a certain likeness between those two?”</p>
<p>“I’ve always said they looked enough
alike to be brothers. Don’t you remember,
dear, when you were first engaged to Jack,
you wouldn’t speak to me for two weeks
because I mentioned the fact?”</p>
<p>“No, I don’t remember. Well, all of a
sudden, I felt that I could forgive Jack all
if I could just lay my head on his shoulder,
and hear him say that he was sorry.”</p>
<p>“Oh, Dorothy, dear, I am so glad! He
told me this morning that he—”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span></p>
<p>“If you will kindly allow me to proceed,
without interruption, I will explain how
that is now impossible. I was wondering
how Mr. Bonds could be gotten rid of, so
that Jack could go home with me and apologize
comfortably before dinner; when he
suddenly left him and ran up the Vansmith’s
steps. Jack was walking slowly,
and I just shut my eyes, and made a dash
to catch up with him. My own voice
sounded like a fog whistle, as I said: ‘W—wait
a moment; I—I wish to speak to you.’
And, oh, Emily—”</p>
<p>“You surely never mean to say that Jack
wouldn’t stop when you called?”</p>
<p>“It wasn’t Jack. It was Mr. Bonds;
Jack had gone into the Vansmith house!
But, oh, Emily, if he really loved me, he
would have known that I was right behind
him, ready to forgive and forget. I shall
sail for India some time next week, and if I
never return, you—”</p>
<p>“But, Dorothy, Jack is only too anxious
to make up. He says that a lover’s quarrel
is worse than a Welsh rarebit for keeping a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span>
fellow awake at night. And he told me to
tell you—”</p>
<p>“Well, Emily Marshmallow, if this is all
the interest you take in our discussion of
theosophy, we might as well adjourn, and
go to a millinery shop or an afternoon tea,”
said the president, with some asperity;
“and, after all the trouble I’ve taken in
reading everything the dictionary and the
encyclopædia have to say on the subject, I
think you might at least pay attention to
my remarks!”</p>
<p>“Dear me, Evelyn, I really beg your
pardon. I shall borrow Elise’s note-book,
and study it all out before I sleep. There
is nothing so productive of a good night’s
rest as half an hour’s solid reading after
one is in bed. Why, the other night, I
took a book on philosophy to bed with me,
and before I had read six sentences I was
asleep. I never woke till nine o’clock in
the morning, and the gas was blazing all
that time. I doubt if I’d have waked then
if somebody hadn’t knocked at my door.”</p>
<p>“It was the sweet consciousness of duty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span>
well performed,” said the girl with the
Roman nose. “Now, if your book had been
a really interesting novel, you would have
been awake half the night.”</p>
<p>“True,” said the girl with the classic
profile, “and been as yellow as a primrose
in the morning. I often say that a few
pages of really good literature just before
retiring is the best thing in the world for
the complexion. One girl I know says
she always reads her Bible then; but I
don’t approve of that—if one falls asleep
suddenly, allowing it to drop heavily upon
the floor, it is sure to awaken the other
members of the family. If I do that, my
father—”</p>
<p>“I know,” said the girl with the dimple
in her chin, plaintively. “Mamma says
that if I take any more solid reading to
bed I may confront papa with this month’s
gas bill, when it comes in, for she absolutely
refuses to do it!”</p>
<p>“Pshaw, men are all alike; though I
didn’t use to think so,” said the president.
“Now, I always forget all about the topic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span>
for discussion until half an hour before it is
time to start for the club. A man would
say that he hadn’t time to prepare for it,
but a woman’s courage never deserts her.
I am all ready at the appointed time, even
if I have to tell the cook to have anything
she chooses for dinner. Now, Tom thinks
I ought to be ready by the day before, even
if I have to give up a tea or a luncheon to
do it.”</p>
<p>“The idea!” said the girl with the eyeglasses.
“Really, women have so many
things to do nowadays that is a wonder
they find time for them all; and yet,
men seem to expect them to be just as good
housekeepers as they were when they had
nothing else to do. I regret to see that
the sexes have not progressed equally.”</p>
<p>“Indeed they have not,” said the brown-eyed
blonde. “Who ever heard of the
new man? And if there <i>was</i> such a creature
he would no doubt be so effeminate
that nobody would care anything for
him.”</p>
<p>“True,” said the girl with the classic profile,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span>
“sometimes, I fear that Helen’s husband
will develop such proclivities. Of
course it is only a harmless eccentricity
which makes him sew on his own buttons—I
can overlook that. But the other day he
was getting ready to go down town while
she was out on her bicycle. Just because
she was wearing one of his shirts and a collar
and tie of his, he dressed up in that
lovely lace collarette of hers, and was
actually going out with it on! What would
people have said of a man who appeared in
such feminine attire!”</p>
<p>“Goodness me, I hope he is not losing
his mind,” said the president. “However,
if he is, Helen is always ready to supply
him with a piece of hers. By the way,
girls, what queer questions men do ask!
Several of Tom’s friends dined with us last
evening, and they actually wanted to know
why a stout woman always selects a tiny
dog for a pet, while a wisp of a woman will
be tugging at the chain of an enormous
mastiff. I simply told them that they
must not be so curious, for, though I would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span>
not confess it to <i>them</i>, I really could not
answer the question.”</p>
<p>“And you were quite right,” said the
blue-eyed girl, indignantly; “by and by,
they will actually expect us to give a reason
for everything we do! Which is palpably
absurd, since we so often do things
without any reason at all!”</p>
<p>“Well, luckily, we are not responsible
for anybody,” said the girl with the eyeglasses.
“Oh! I just wouldn’t be a man
for anything in the world.”</p>
<p>“Would anybody, if he could help it?”
queried the brown-eyed blonde. “Of
course, they all pretend to like it, but one
can easily see the hollowness of the pretense.
Why, they would not be half so
anxious to criticise our actions if they
didn’t feel that we have the best of things.
Of course, I would not be a man for anything—”</p>
<p>“Nor I,” said the president, “and have
to give up my comfortable seat in a street
car every time a woman entered.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span></p>
<p>“But of course it is only right for them
to give up their seats to us,” said the girl
with the dimple in her chin.</p>
<p>“Certainly, it’s right. Only I shouldn’t
like to have to do it myself.”</p>
<p>“Of course not. Or to have to pay for
pretty things for somebody else to wear.
Or to have to drop a nice book, and go out
in the rain to escort home a girl who had
been calling on some one else,” said the
girl with the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“Yes. Or to have to buy candy for
somebody else to eat,” said the girl with
the classic profile.</p>
<p>“M’hm. Or to have the nearest woman
manage one, without one being aware of
the fact,” said the girl with the eyeglasses.
“I know! Or to have to fall in love with a
girl, and marry her, just because she had
made up her mind that one should,” said
the blue-eyed girl.</p>
<p>“Yes. Well, really the poor things have
a great deal to endure, though many of
their sufferings are mercifully hidden from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span>
them,” said the girl with the dimple in her
chin. “But, after all, we are very nice to
them, you know.”</p>
<p>“Of course we are,” said the president;
“we wouldn’t get nearly so many things
out of them, if we were not. Girls, I hear
that Annie has finally decided to marry
Nelson.”</p>
<p>“I thought she had done that long ago,”
said the brown-eyed blonde. “Talk of a
woman not knowing her own mind. That
man never—”</p>
<p>“He knew his own mind well enough,
dear. It was only about Annie’s that he
was doubtful,” said the girl with the dimple
in her chin. “Annie told me herself
how it came to be settled. She said that
she couldn’t decide whether to accept him
or not—”</p>
<p>“Which means that she had done all she
could, and was doubtful whether he would
do the rest,” said the brown-eyed blonde.</p>
<p>“Perhaps so. At any rate it was still
uncertain until last Tuesday. He had been
out of town for several days, and returned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span>
unexpectedly. Annie had gone out to
mail a letter, and just as she raised the lid
of the letter-box she saw him coming up
the street toward her. As they walked away
together, she glanced down and saw that
she still held her letter in her hand, but her
pocket-book was gone!”</p>
<p>“Goodness, you don’t mean to say that
she—”</p>
<p>“I do. She said she knew at once that
she must care a good deal for a man whose
sudden appearance was enough to make her
post her pocketbook instead of a letter—so
she said ‘Yes.’”</p>
<p>“As soon as he asked her,” said the
brown-eyed blonde. “Well, what he can see
in <i>her</i>, I’m sure <i>I</i> don’t know!”</p>
<p>“What <i>she</i> can see in <i>him</i> puzzles me,”
said the blue-eyed girl, thoughtfully. “I
don’t see how any girl can really love and
honor a man who wears red neckties; do
you?”</p>
<p>“For <i>my</i> part, I can’t see what they see
in each other,” said the president, thoughtfully.
“Well, I really think Annie ought to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span>
give me a handsome present, for it was I
who brought it all about.”</p>
<p>“Mercy, did you speak ill of her to Nelson?”</p>
<p>“No; but I told Tom the other day that
I didn’t believe that girl would ever get
married. And when I make a remark like
that about any girl, she may as well set
about selecting her trousseau, for somebody
is sure to propose to her at once.”</p>
<p>“And yet, I doubt if Annie would be
grateful to you, if you told her,” said the
blue-eyed girl, thoughtfully.</p>
<p>“One must not expect gratitude in this
world, dear. The consciousness of having
done one’s duty is reward enough for a
right-minded person. By the way, Emily
dear, I hear that Dick says he will positively
wait no longer. You must give him a decisive
answer one way or the other, or
he—”</p>
<p>“Yes; but he hasn’t yet screwed up the
courage to tell <i>me</i> so, dear. When he
<i>does</i>, it will be time for me to make up my
mind. I do wonder,” she added, thoughtfully,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span>
“why a girl who has one lover
already, is sure to win the affections of another
man?”</p>
<p>“Cause and effect,” said the president,
gloomily. “I never thought of buying that
new hat until I heard Helen tell the milliner
it was too expensive for her. After I
got it home, I found it didn’t match a
thing I possessed. I just believe Helen said
that before me for meanness, knowing I
would be compelled to buy it, then. And
now the milliner absolutely refuses to take
it off my hands. I threatened to withdraw
my trade if she didn’t; but it had no
effect. She knows I have more hats
already than I need for this season, and by
the time they are all worn out—and paid
for—I shall have forgotten all about it.”</p>
<p>“But why not pay your bill at once, and
open another with somebody else? That—”</p>
<p>“I don’t care to let Tom see the old bill
just now, dear. It wouldn’t matter ordinarily,
but since he inherited that money
from his aunt he is feeling unusually poor,
and it might cause a family unpleasantness.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span></p>
<p>“How thoughtful you always are, Evelyn!
Really, the study of theosophy
seems to have developed your character
wonderfully. I do hope you will explain
it all thoroughly to me,” said the girl with
the Roman nose; “I am really so stupid
that even after to-day’s discussion, I feel
that I do not fully understand it.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps at some future time,” said the
president, hastily. “I am sorry to say
that we really must adjourn now. My
mother-in-law is coming to dine with us,
and I don’t want her poking about the
house in my absence.”</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="chapter"></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span></p>
<h2>Chapter XII<br />
<small>A Discussion and a Surprise</small></h2>
<p>“‘Civic Organizations Among the Ancient
Greeks,’ will be our topic for to-day,”
said the president. “And, oh, girls, I am
so angry with Tom that I would go right
home to mamma, but for the fact that she
always agrees with him. Papa invariably
thinks <i>I</i> am in the right; but he would say
unpleasant things about Tom, and I
shouldn’t like that, either. The consequence
is that I must just endure my
martyrdom in silence.”</p>
<p>“But, what is wrong? Is it about that
legacy from Tom’s aunt?” queried the girl
with the Roman nose. “Dear me, I often
think it’s so hard that really poor men are
usually nicer than those that have money.”</p>
<p>“I don’t see why you always think of
money in connection with me,” said the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span>
president. “Heaven knows, I am not mercenary,
and I only want to live well and
dress properly, in order that people may
see Tom is not stingy. No, this is quite
another matter. It all came from the topic
I selected for to-day. I was talking, rather
learnedly, about ‘Civic Organizations
Among the Ancient Greeks,’ when Tom
asked me suddenly what ward I live in! Of
course, I didn’t know—”</p>
<p>“Why, neither do I,” said the brown-eyed
blonde, “but it must be the same one,
for we both live on the north side!”</p>
<p>“I really don’t know, either,” said the
girl with the dimple in her chin. “I don’t
see what difference it makes though, for I
could ask the clerk at the corner drug store
if I needed particularly to know.”</p>
<p>“Of course you could,” said the president,
“and so could I. But, Tom was
awfully unpleasant—he couldn’t have been
more so if we had been married twenty
years instead of two. He said he didn’t
see any use in my poking about among
the civic organizations of ancient Greece,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span>
when I did not know what ward I lived
in.”</p>
<p>“Humph! I suppose next thing he will
be saying that he doesn’t see any use in
the Teacup Club,” said the girl with the
classic profile, in sarcastic tones. “A man
will say anything when he is angry.”</p>
<p>“Humph! I fancy he will hardly say
anything like that, dear. He knows it has
its use, if it is only to make me look more
leniently on his own club. When we first
organized it he complained a good deal
about the demands it made on my time and
attention, and I just said: ‘Oh, very well,
dear, let us both give up our clubs, and
spend all our spare time at home together.’
After that, he held his peace on the subject.”</p>
<p>“But you wouldn’t have given it up,
would you?” asked the brown-eyed blonde,
anxiously.</p>
<p>“Of course not—but Tom didn’t know
that. By the way, Emily, what is making
Dorothy so late to-day?”</p>
<p>“I fancy she is engaged,” replied the girl<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span>
with the dimple in her chin, demurely; “at
least Jack Bittersweet was on his way to
call on her a couple of hours ago, and I
suppose—Pardon me, Frances, did you
speak?”</p>
<p>“I—I was about to say, ‘how nice’—for
Dorothy, I mean. By the way, girls, I—I
am thinking of going to Omaha for a nice,
long visit as soon as I can get ready.”</p>
<p>“But I thought you had already refused
Lola’s invitation,” said the girl with the
dimple in her chin.</p>
<p>“I—I had. But, really I have bought
so many pretty things of late that I can get
ready for my visit without the slightest
trouble, and as my last visit was cut short,
I—”</p>
<p>“Yes, I remember that quite well, dear.
I remember that you came home a few days
after Dorothy broke with poor Jack. But
I don’t understand why you have been
embroidering so much table linen lately.
You surely will not need that for a visit to
Omaha.”</p>
<p>“Why, er—no. I—I shall take it as a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span>
present to Lola’s mother, I think. You
have no idea of how fond she is of me.”</p>
<p>“Indeed, I have, dear,” said the girl
with the dimple in her chin, warmly.
“I’ve often noticed that married women
who have no grown sons <i>are</i> fond of you.
It is rather a pity, as things turned out,
that you cut your last visit short; I am
really afraid, if you go now, that you will
miss Dorothy’s wedding.”</p>
<p>“At any rate, dear, she will not miss it
herself. Really, I think the poor girl
would have lost her mind if she had lost
Jack. These disappointments are so hard
to bear that—”</p>
<p>“I shall tell her that you said so, dear.
I am sure she and Jack will both—”</p>
<p>“Oh, girls,” said the president, hastily,
“do you suppose that Greek women used
actually to wear those dowdy gowns on the
street? Of course they would do very well
for tea gowns, but—”</p>
<p>“I don’t suppose anything of the kind,”
said the girl with the Roman nose. “It
was chiefly the men who made the antique<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span>
statues, wasn’t it? Very well, then, the
poor creatures had no idea of style, and
just reproduced the gowns they happened
to admire themselves.”</p>
<p>“True,” said the girl with the classic
profile; “men always detest the ruling fashion
of the hour. And yet, they seem to
think we dress to please them,” she added,
derisively.</p>
<p>“I know it. And the women of ancient
Greece were just like anybody else, I suppose,”
replied the girl with the eyeglasses.
“However, if they really wore white as frequently
as they seem to, they must have
had more money than I have to pay the
laundress.”</p>
<p>“Yes, or the principal street of Athens—I
forget the name of it, must have been a
good deal cleaner than State street,” said
the girl with the dimple in her chin. “I
don’t suppose, however, that the carving
of statues could have made much dirt, and
really the ancient Greeks seem to have done
little else.”</p>
<p>“At any rate their system of civic organization<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span>
was—dear me, what was it? I had
it all written down on the back of an invitation
to dinner, and I must have lost it as
I came along,” wailed the president. “Oh,
dear, what shall I do?”</p>
<p>“Never mind, you can tell us what you
remember,” said the girl with the Roman
nose, soothingly. “None of us know
enough about it to detect the fact if you
<i>are</i> wrong.”</p>
<p>“It isn’t that; I’ve got it all at home in
the old school book I copied it from. But,
as I say, it was on the back of an invitation
to dinner, and I can’t remember whether
it was for next Tuesday or Thursday!”</p>
<p>“Goodness me, that is really serious,”
said the girl with the dimple in her chin;
“but perhaps Tom will remember.”</p>
<p>“Tom remember the date of an invitation
to dinner! How little you know about
men. Why, he would tell me the wrong
day, if he did remember, just to escape
putting on his dress coat and going with
me.”</p>
<p>“Humph! from what Helen says, you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span>
may be thankful that he goes at all. Her
husband does not. She says—”</p>
<p>“Helen didn’t manage him properly at
first, that’s all. When Tom first began to
declare he wouldn’t go to dinners, I would
just say, ‘Very well, dear, we’ll both remain
at home, and tell our would-be hostess
the true reason why we didn’t come. And
now, I often reap the benefit of that Spartan
policy. Of course, he is sometimes detained
at the office by important business,
or even called off by a telegram just as we
are about to start. However, I always remember
that he is only human after all,
and seldom revenge myself in any other
way than by telling him that Mr. Troolygood
sat next me at table. Life will be a
much more complicated affair for me if that
dear fellow ever takes it into his head to
marry.”</p>
<p>“I think you are perfectly safe for some
time to come, dear,” said the girl with the
classic profile, “his married sister, with
whom he lives, is anxious for him to marry.
She has the habit of inviting any girl he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span>
seems to admire, so constantly to the house
that she soon loses all her charm for him.”</p>
<p>“No man likes courtship made easy,”
said the girl with the Roman nose. “Mr.
Troolygood will surely die a bachelor unless
he succeeds some day in unearthing a
girl whom his sister dislikes. That is
hardly probable, either, since he invariably
admires a girl with money—a habit, by the
way, which I have also noticed in other
young clergymen.”</p>
<p>“It is not confined to young clergymen,
dear,” remarked the girl with the eyeglasses.
“Talk about women being mercenary,
I have often noticed that men think
much more of money than we do. We
know that they must provide for us somehow,
and the doing of it is their affair.”</p>
<p>“Oh, girls,” said the girl with the dimple
in her chin, “what excellent mental training
we do receive at this club! Dorothy
was wondering the other day how we ever
got along without it; and, indeed, so was I.
A reputation for being intellectual is the
nicest thing in the world; once you have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span>
it, you can be as silly as you choose, and
people will feel actually grateful to you for
unbending. It has its drawbacks, though.
I find one must be more careful than ever
to have cuffs and gloves immaculate.”</p>
<p>“True,” said the girl with the classic
profile. “Girls, a college professor asked
me the other day why we always wear veils
on the street!”</p>
<p>“And what did you reply?” queried the
girl with the Roman nose.</p>
<p>“To keep our faces clean! What did
you suppose?”</p>
<p>“Oh! I thought you told him the
truth. However, the more intellectual a
man is the less he understands women.
One of his students would—”</p>
<p>“Know better than to expect the truth
in reply to such a question? Of course he
would,” said the president; “but oh, girls,
if an octogenarian knew as much about us as
a sophomore <i>thinks</i> he does, what a queer
world this would be!”</p>
<p>“Unpleasant rather than queer,” said the
girl with the dimple in her chin. “Of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span>
course we understand men thoroughly; but
that is a very different matter.”</p>
<p>“Oh, very different,” said the girl with
the Roman nose. “But aren’t they queer?
Why, I once knew a man who called a girl
a ‘most adorable little flirt,’ and then felt
very much aggrieved when she kept on
flirting after they became engaged!”</p>
<p>“Lots of girls never have an opportunity
to flirt until they <i>are</i> engaged,” remarked
the girl with the dimple in her chin. “To
some men, an engagement ring on a girl’s
hand has the same effect that a ‘Keep off
the grass’ sign has on children.”</p>
<p>“True,” said the girl with the Roman
nose. “Oh, Marion, shall you also visit
Lola this year?”</p>
<p>“Not this century,” replied the girl with
the eyeglasses. “Didn’t you hear what
happened the last time she was here?”</p>
<p>“Why, no; except that she was to dine
with you. What happened? Did she discuss
art in a monologue from soup to coffee?
or, did—”</p>
<p>“Yes, she did that; but it wouldn’t have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span>
really mattered, except for—you see it was
this way: when she was here last summer,
she gave me one of her, well, <i>she</i> calls them
paintings. I accepted it with profuse thanks;
and hung it in the darkest corner of the attic
as soon as her train was well out of Chicago.
When I heard that she was coming
back, I fished the picture out of its corner,
and gave it a prominent place in the parlor,
telling her it had been there all the time.”</p>
<p>“Well, I’m sure she ought to be satisfied
with that,” said the president; “not
many people care enough for Lola to hang
her pictures even temporarily on the parlor
walls. The one she gave me is in the
cook’s bedroom—the poor woman has been
complaining of insomnia lately.”</p>
<p>“No wonder. Unluckily I forgot to
coach my family, and when we came in
from the dinner table, my brother Frank
joined us. You know Lola <i>is</i> pretty when
she remembers to comb her hair and remove
her painting apron.”</p>
<p>“Mercy on us! did he criticise her painting
while she was present?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span></p>
<p>“No. He only said, ‘Hello, where did
you get this new picture? I never saw it
before. Looks like the one that has been
vegetating in the attic!’”</p>
<p>“You needn’t tell us the rest, dear; we
all know Lola. It was too bad, when you
had only done it to spare her feelings, too!”</p>
<p>“Dear! dear!” said the girl with the dimple
in her chin. “I wonder why the most
hopeless artists are ever the most generous
with their productions? They seem to
wish to give them away, whereas—”</p>
<p>“Self-preservation, dear. When one has
done something dreadful, one dislikes to be
constantly reminded of the fact!” said the
girl with the classic profile. “You know
my eldest sister, don’t you? Well, her
husband has an awful temper, but he seldom
gives Sophie any trouble. Whenever
he begins to be unpleasant, she says: ‘Isn’t
it fortunate, dear; if you should die, or we
should ever separate, I could have a good
income, anyhow—I could just publish in
book form the poems you wrote to me before
we were married!’”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span></p>
<p>“And what then?” asked the president,
breathlessly.</p>
<p>“Oh, he kicks the dog or snubs his typewriter;
but he never says another word to
Sophie.”</p>
<p>“And yet, Sophie used to be considered
dull at school,” said the president, thoughtfully.
“Well, that’s only another proof that
even genius needs a special opportunity.”</p>
<p>“Speaking of opportunities,” said the
girl with the eyeglasses, “have you heard
of Marie’s last mishap? No? I thought
not. You know that delightful young physician
who cares nothing for society, and
declines all non-professional invitations, and
never calls on a woman under seventy.
Well, Marie has developed neuralgia, grip,
and nervous prostration in swift succession,
and he has been called in to attend her.
You see, it is this way: it gives her an opportunity
to see him in bewitching tea-gowns,
and she studies new poses on the
sofa when she is not taking powders.”</p>
<p>“Oh! And when are they to be married?”
asked the president.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p>
<p>“Never, dear. He says he had long loved
her silently, and was trying to summon up
enough courage to tell her so. Now, however,
he sees that she is too delicate to
make a good wife for a hardworking professional
man!”</p>
<p>“Humph! No wonder Marie’s little
brother told mine he wants to go away to
boarding-school,” said the girl with the
Roman nose. “Well, I always did hate
deceit. I never—”</p>
<p>“By the way,” said the president, “I
thought you had such a bad headache that
you could not go out to-day.”</p>
<p>“That was when mamma wanted me to
accompany her to a meeting at the orphan
asylum, dear. I felt ever so much better
after she was gone.”</p>
<p>“I am so glad you care so much for the
club,” said the president. “I gave up a
luncheon at my mother-in-law’s, in order
to come, myself. I wanted awfully to go—all
the other guests were lovely old ladies—perfect
walking encyclopædias on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span>
subject of servants, and the proper time to
hunt moths or cut first teeth.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I forgot to tell you, dear,” said the
girl with the dimple in her chin. “Tom’s
mother sent you a message by me that she
had put the luncheon off until Friday because
you were so disappointed at your inability
to be present.”</p>
<p>“Well, if she expects me to waste a
whole morning on those old frumps, she is
very much mistaken, that is all. And you
are no true friend of mine, or you would
have told her I had an engagement for that
day, too!”</p>
<p>“Humph! You seem to forget that I
am afraid of her, too. She was my old
Sunday-school teacher, and she would as
lief be disagreeable to me as to you. Besides,
it is not as if Tom had no unmarried brothers.
One has to consider her feelings, you
know, and—”</p>
<p>“Very true, dear. You always were
charitable, Emily—I can just as well go to
bed with a cold on Friday. Well, I fear we
must adjourn now. What a profitable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span>
meeting we have had! I only wish Dorothy
could have heard some of the arguments
that—”</p>
<p>“Yes, indeed, Dorothy needs all of the
good sense she can possibly obtain in
any form,” murmured the brown-eyed
blonde.</p>
<p>“Not now that she is about to be married,
dear,” said the girl with the dimple in
her chin. “However, I am sure that nothing
save death or a boil on her chin will
ever keep her away from another meeting.
She says she considers the founding of this
club her life work.”</p>
<p>“And a noble one, too,” said the president,
warmly. “Well, if ever a girl entered
upon matrimony with bright prospects, <i>she</i>
is that one. I verily believe she could
make Jack Bittersweet do anything she
wanted, whether he liked or not!”</p>
<p>“At any rate, she has begun well,” said
the brown-eyed blonde, sweetly.</p>
<p>When the girl with the dimple in her chin
reached the blue-eyed girl’s home, she ran
up the stairs to her friend’s room, two steps<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span>
at a time, and burst open the door. That
young person was discovered, radiant with
smiles in spite of the traces of recent tears;
she was seated at her desk, and the waste
basket was overflowing with crumpled
sheets of her best note paper.</p>
<p>“Oh, you dear, Dorothy,” said the visitor,
“tell me all about it, do! I was dying
to come earlier, but I wanted to see what
Frances would do when she heard that Jack
was coming here, so I had to stay all
through the meeting. Evelyn says that
no girl ever had brighter prospects in marrying
than you, and—”</p>
<p>“Oh! then, they all know I am to be
married, do they? Did Jack tell? I
thought he would hold his peace, because—”</p>
<p>“Well, not exactly; but he told me that
he was on his way here to ask you to forgive
him for everything he ever did! And
he said he just wouldn’t come away until
you set your wedding-day, and so—”</p>
<p>“Oh! he told you that, did he? Well,
it is set, and—”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span></p>
<p>“Dear old Jack, he must be the happiest
fellow in the world, for he—”</p>
<p>“M—I can’t say that he looked it when
he went away; however, some people have
such a way of concealing their emotions. I
never had myself; I am as open as the day—anybody
could know just what I intended
to do all the time.”</p>
<p>“Of course; I told Jack how it would be
from the start. But I don’t see why he
looked so melancholy when he came away.
Didn’t you set the wedding day early
enough to please him?”</p>
<p>“He said he didn’t want to know the
day, and—”</p>
<p>“Didn’t want to know the day of his
own wedding! Why, the poor boy must
be crazy; he—”</p>
<p>“The date of his <i>own</i> wedding! Emily
Marshmallow, are you out of your mind?
I said the date of <i>my</i> wedding, and—”</p>
<p>“Would you mind feeling my pulse,
dear, or examining my eye to see if there is
a look of insanity in it! For really, I don’t
see how you and Jack can be married to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span>
each other on different days, unless you are
thinking of matrimony on the instalment
plan; and that—”</p>
<p>“Married to each other? Jack Bittersweet
and I? Why, Emily Marshmallow,
you haven’t listened to a word I have been
saying, when I have been telling you for
the last half hour I am to marry Clarence
Lighthed, the only man I ever loved, next
month, and—”</p>
<p>“Oh, Dorothy, don’t! If Jack did not
ask you to marry him to-day, it was only
that he hadn’t the courage, and—”</p>
<p>“He did, dear—twice. But you see, I
had accepted Clarence an hour before he
came. Well, it is a great comfort to know
that I never encouraged poor Jack! You
will bear me out in that, I know. And oh,
Emily, Clarence is the dearest person in
the world! You can’t imagine how happy
first love makes one! I—I wouldn’t say a
word to Frances now if I saw her with
one eyebrow a full half inch higher than
the other. But, what is the matter?
You—”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span></p>
<p>“I—I feel a little faint, dear; that is all.
Did you—er, try to soften the blow to
Jack?”</p>
<p>“I did. I advised him to marry Frances;
said that I knew she would make him happier
than I could ever have done, and their
marriage was the one thing needed to complete
my own happiness.”</p>
<p>“Well, he wouldn’t marry her now if—not
if she was a wealthy young widow.
Did—did Jack say anything about me?”</p>
<p>“Why, er—yes; he seemed sort of
offended with you for something. I don’t
know what it was. The only reference I
made to you in our whole conversation, was
to tell him that you had seen all along that
I intended to marry Clarence. Of course
if you had not been able to make him understand
that fact, it was his own stupidity,
and not your fault. Oh, I tell you, I
always defend my friends—even before they
are attacked! But what is the matter?
You look sort of queer?”</p>
<p>“I—I was only wondering what they
would say at the club! They—they seemed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span>
to have an idea that you would marry Jack,
and—”</p>
<p>“Marry Jack Bittersweet! What on
earth could have put such an idea into their
heads? I only hope, Emily, that you—”</p>
<p>“Oh, no, dear; nothing of the kind.
I—I merely told them that he was on his
way to ask you to marry him, and—”</p>
<p>“Very thoughtful it was of you, dear. I
only wish I could ask you to be bridesmaid
for your pains; but Clarence has somehow
gotten an idea that you are not a friend of
his. There was no one else to oppose the
match, and I—I doubt if he’d have asked
me quite as soon if you hadn’t; so I shall
try to forgive you, in time, for the things
you have said about him.”</p>
<p>The girl with the dimple in her chin
gasped, but her only reply, was: “I really
don’t know what the other members of the
club will say. They—”</p>
<p>“The club. I am so glad you mentioned
it. There was a meeting to-day, was there
not? I was just writing Evelyn a letter
when you came in, saying—”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span></p>
<p>“That you want us to meet twice a week
after this! How nice; that is just—”</p>
<p>“No, dear; it was a letter of resignation
I was writing. Dear Clarence has such a
horror of intellectual women, that I—”</p>
<p>“But, Dorothy, you know when you
founded the club, you said the membership
would be for life, and—”</p>
<p>“Emily Marshmallow, I never said anything
of the kind! And, if I <i>did</i>, only a
person of your colossal selfishness would
expect me to waste my time on a mere
club when I want to devote eighteen
hours a day to the selection of my trousseau,
and the other six to Clarence! And,
if you want to know my real opinion of the
club, I consider it the greatest bore among
my social duties!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a><br /><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span></p>
<div class="copyright"><br /><br />
<b>PRINTED BY R. R. DONNELLEY<br />
& SONS CO. AT THE LAKESIDE<br />
PRESS, FOR WAY & WILLIAMS,<br />
CHICAGO, U.S.A. MDCCCXCVII<br /></b>
</div>
<hr class="full" />
<div class="tnote"><div class="center">
<b>Transcriber’s Notes:</b></div>
<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired. This text uses both single
quotation marks and double quotation marks within dialogue. This was
retained as printed.</p>
<p>Page 82, “nowaday” changed to “nowadays” (nowadays don’t intend)</p>
<p>Page 216, “absense” changed to “absence” (bears my absence)</p>
<p>Page 245, removed repeated word “heard” (you heard Miss Blanque)</p>
<p>Page 296, “he” changed to “her” (criticise her painting)</p></div>
<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 50751 ***</div>
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