Such a ball! They called it a Pagan Revel and it was! Egyptian costumes and a Russian orchestra. Some of the Egyptian slave maidens were dressed mostly in brown paint. Kendall says he helped dress them at the Liberal Club. Good heavens! Kendall's pose of lily white virtue amuses me. He went as a cave man with a leopard skin over his shoulders, and I danced with him two or three times. His talk reminds me of Julian. How well I know the methods of these sentimental pirates! What infinite patience and adroitness they use in leading the talk towards dangerous ground! How seriously they begin! With what sincerity and ingenuous frankness they proceed, and all the time they know exactly what they are doing, exactly what effects they are producing in a woman. Kendall spoke of the modern dance in a detached, intellectual way. He dwelt on one particular development in the fox trot--had I noticed it?--there! that naval officer and the languishing blonde were doing it now--which seemed to him unaesthetic. It might be harmful in some cases, say to a Class A woman. Being curious, I asked what he meant by a "Class A" woman and this gave Kendall his opportunity to discourse on fundamental differences that exist among women, so he declares. I wish I knew if what he says is true. He assures me he has it on the authority of a Chicago specialist, but I never put much dependence on anything that Kendall Brown says. If this is true the whole romantic history of the world will have to be rewritten and the verdicts of numberless juries in murder trials _passionels_ ought to be set aside. The statement is that physical desire is universal among men, but not among women. One-third of all women, Kendall puts them in Class C, have no such desire; therefore, they deserve no particular credit for remaining virtuous. Another third of all women are in Class B, the normal class, where this desire is or is not present, according to circumstances. The last third of all women make up Class A, and these women, being as strongly tempted as men (or more so), are condemned to the same struggles that men experience, and, if they happen to be beautiful, and without deep spirituality, they are fated to have emotional experiences that may make them great heroines or artists, great adventuresses or outcasts. I am sure I do not belong in Class C, I _hope_ I belong in Class B, but I am afraid-- * * * * * I knew _They_ were waiting for me. Last night I heard Them again--after the ball. It was a horrible night! I shall write to Dr. Owen that I must see him at once. CHAPTER III A BOWL OF GOLD FISH (_A letter from Penelope_) _New York, February ----._ DEAR DR. OWEN: Did you think I had vanished from the earth? I know I ought to have reported to you a week ago, but--I fear Penelope Wells is an unreliable person. Forgive me! I am in great distress.