Patricia looked puzzled. "They seemed like both to me," she confessed. "They were beautifully dressed and they had lovely manners, and some of them were singers and others seemed to be just society people, from the way they talked about things. Madame Garti was there, and Sculke, the baritone, and Mrs. Winderly--she was perfectly lovely----" "Social climber," Rosamond ticketed her with a calm that made Patricia wince. "And there was a plain girl with a gorgeous hat, whom Madame called Felice--I didn't catch her other name, but I liked her immensely." Rosamond sat up and bent forward. "Felice Vanding?" she asked, and at Patricia's rather uncertain nod, she said decisively, "That is the most exclusive girl in New York. Was her mother there?" Patricia searched her memory. "Is she sort of stiff and dried-up?" she hazarded. "With a big nose?" "That is Mrs. Vanding!" cried Rosamond with more animation than Patricia had known her to show. "Milano must be quite the proper thing, or the Vandings would never take her up. Tell me some more about her." Patricia felt rather disconcerted. This was not the point of view she could sympathize with. She went on less gayly. "Madame Milano was very kind. She asked all about my lessons, and said she was going to ask Tancredi to lunch with her tomorrow to find out how I had been shirking. She asked about Artemis Lodge, too, and how I like the life here. I told her how jolly it was, and I told her, too, how dear you'd been to me." "Did you indeed?" said Rosamond with a pleased look. "Was she at all interested?" "I should say she was!" cried Patricia, glad to recall the tone and look. "She smiled and said in the nicest possible way, 'I should like to meet your friend, Miss Pat. It is rare to find such good comradeship among rivals.' I told her that we weren't rivals, that we couldn't possibly be, for you had a wonderful voice and were far, far more gifted than plain me." "What did she say at that?" demanded the now eager Rosamond, forgetting to contradict this generous statement. "She laughed and pinched my cheek," Patricia had to confess shamefacedly. "And she said something about violets and I thought she meant my bunch, so I took it off and offered it to her, feeling so glad I had the chance to give her even that tiny gift. She took it and pinned it on her, and told me to be a good child. It was rather puzzling, though, for the other people laughed and I was sure I'd made a mistake of some sort. I felt horridly uncomfortable." "Didn't your sister know what she meant?" inquired Rosamond, sinking back into her cushions again.