“I don’t know, I’m sure. I think she must be, she gives so much away.” “Was that her machine?” “Why, yes. She has an electric too, and her flat is the most beautiful thing you ever saw.” “She certainly dresses elegantly,” admitted Nannie, “doesn’t she!” “Yes,” agreed Lucy. “Does she entertain much?” “No, Mamma. She’s too busy.” “I suppose she doesn’t go into society, then?” pursued Nannie interrogatively. “Why, yes indeed, Mamma. Her name is always among those who were at the biggest functions. The McCullochs, the Porters, the Flemwells, and all the other social leaders try to get her. I’ve seen the invitations. Mrs. Porter used to come to the flat to persuade her to give up a board meeting of some committee, to help receive at her things.” “She has a very aristocratic manner,” acknowledged Nannie. “Shall we take a car?” “All right,” agreed Lucy. In a few minutes the two were in the big department store. “Let’s go to a matinée,” suggested Nannie when they had made their purchases. “We’ll be just in time if we hurry through our lunch.” “Let’s see if we’ve money enough for the tickets,” considered Lucy, searching through her purse. “All right,” she decided. “What play do you want to see?” “Why it makes no difference to me, Lucy. You choose.” “Nazimova is playing _Hedda Gabler_ at the Standard. This is the end of the season and just about our last chance,” said Lucy. “I’ve been wanting to see the play ever since I read it at Miss Storms’. Shall we go there?” “Aren’t there any musical comedies playing now?” inquired Nannie. “They have such beautiful costumes in them.” “We can see as we are eating,” planned Lucy, leading the way into a small restaurant and tea room. “We’ll look at a paper.” “What a cheap looking place!” commented Mrs. Merwent, staring around as they sat down. “If we go to a dear one we’ll have to give up the matinée,” retorted Lucy rather wearily. “Oh, I didn’t mean that I mind,” returned Nannie quickly. “You always try to twist everything I say into something mean, Lucy,” she added petulantly. “Mamma, please let’s not quarrel again,” pleaded Lucy. “I’m so tired.” “I’m sure _I’ve_ not been trying to quarrel. I’ve been as nice as I knew how to be all day. You’re the one who always seems to want to quarrel.” The waitress came up with a menu. Lucy scrutinized her mother in silence. Then, turning to the waitress who had come back to the table, she gave an order and asked for a morning paper. Nannie preserved an injured silence until the food was placed before her, but she could not resist its expansive effect. Lucy picked up the paper and scanned it. “There are no musical comedies playing near here, Mamma,” she announced. “The only other theatre near enough is giving a revival of _As You Like It_. The rest are too far away for us to get there before the curtain goes up.” “Well, let’s see Nazimova then,” conceded Mrs. Merwent. “These sandwiches are so good I could eat a dozen!” Lucy had ended her meal.