the second Samedi came and with it the Professor, who apologized for the indisposition of the count, and little Dawlin of the _Dynamo_, who was to read some _vers de société_. That was all. The heart-breaking thing was that Brotcher, who had found it impossible to be present on the first occasion, appeared at the second Samedi to see what sort of an affair a _salon_ was. Mrs. Brotcher wilted; but she revived somehow and appears to have expected great things of the third Samedi, which came with the Professor again, and Dawlin, and a Judge Troot, who had been asked alone, but who brought his wife. It was pitiful. Brotcher grinned over it, and told Mrs. Brotcher, it seems, that he thought she had better give up trying to be ‘saloon-keeper.’ But Mrs. Brotcher was hard to crush. She complained that so many of the nice men were married, and that you couldn’t get them very well without their wives, who quite plainly were impossible to a _salon_. On the other hand, the single men who were worth having seemed to be wedded to clubs. Even _petits soupers_ would not fetch them. It was not for two or three months that Mrs. Brotcher gave up her dream. I believe the failure was a real grief to her, and she has thrown herself into clubs as if to blot out the past.” [Illustration: When Women Wore High-waisted Gowns] [Illustration: And Men Imitated Napoleon.] “Well,” I said, “that seems to me a better explanation of why we do not have _salons_ than of why we do have women’s clubs. There were men’s clubs at the time of the _salons_; and I think we may say that the _salons_ stopped before the feminine clubs began.” “Have women taken up with one another because they had to? Is that what you are going to ask? No; we have taken up with one another in this modified sort of way for the same reason that the blacksmith whipped the parson—because we wanted to and because we could. The _salon_ never kept many women busy, but the decay of the _salon_ was one more reason why there should be women’s clubs. The logical thing was bound to happen sometime: clubs for men, clubs for women, clubs for both—society being in a sort of way the club for both.” “That is logical,” I admitted. “That is to say, it has a nicely balancing sound, which is the same thing. Then there is a fine balance in other ways, as we may observe every day. We have a dozen men to one woman in political boards, and a dozen women to one man at prayer-meeting. In each case the minority undergoes a trying test.” She laughed an unresentful laugh. “I hope you won’t think me irreverent,” I said, “in suggesting that the same test is imposed upon all clubs alike: What is our condition when we leave them?” “In that case,” she answered, rising. “I’m afraid we shall be obliged to decide that this club may not have been entirely good for you.” To which, naturally, I did not agree. [Illustration] [Illustration] VI WITH A CYNIC [Illustration]