“That is a dangerous sentiment to express,” teased Judy. “I find that a statement like that from a handsome young woman usually means she is taking notice. Come now, Margaret, if, instead of having an astral body to do part of the work you are planning for yourself, you had been born triplets, you would have let one of you get married, wouldn’t you? Now ‘fess up. Margaret could attend the suffrage meetings, and Maggie could look after the child’s welfare, while dear, handsome, wholesome Peggy could be the beloved wife of some promising public man. I don’t believe Margaret or Maggie would mind at all if Peggy had to hurry home from the meetings to have the house attractive for a brilliant young Senator from the western states whom we shall call ‘the Baby of the Senate’ just for euphony, and who would come dashing up to the door in his limousine whistling ‘Peg o’ my Heart’ in joyful anticipation of his welcome.” Margaret, the stately and composed, was blushing furiously at Judy’s nonsense. “Judy Kean, who has been telling you things?” “No one, I declare, Margaret. I was just visualizing. I wouldn’t have presumed to hit the nail on the head had I realized I was doing it. You must forgive me, dear, but I am rather proud of being able to predict, and if I ever meet the ‘Baby of the Senate’ I shall tell him to ‘try, try again’.” Molly interfered at this point and stopped Judy’s naughty mouth with a beaten biscuit. “Aren’t you ashamed, Judy? How should you like to be teased as you have teased Margaret?” “Shouldn’t mind in the least. If in a moment of ambitious dreaming I have said ‘nay, nay’ to any handsome young western senators, Margaret has my permission to tell them to ‘try, try again,’ that I was just a-fooling. I am perfectly frank about my intentions in regard to the husband question. I am wedded to my art, but it is merely a temporary arrangement, and I may get a divorce any day if more attractive inducements are offered than my art can furnish. It is fine, though, to get my picture accepted and almost well hung by The American Artists. I have an idea its size had something to do with the judges taking it. It would have been cruel to refuse such a little thing; and then it is so easy to hang a tiny picture, and there are so many gaps in galleries that have to be filled in somehow.” “What a rattler you are, Judy,” broke in Edith. “Your picture is lovely, and it made me proud to tell James, who took me to the exhibition, that you were my classmate and one of the immortal eight.” “Three more to report,” rapped Margaret, “Molly and Nance and Otoyo. Otoyo first, to punish her for being so noisy,” and Margaret drew the little Japanese to her side with an affectionate smile. “It is not for humble Japanese maidens to bare lay their heart throbbings, so my beloved friends will have to excuse the little Otoyo.”