"I am glad I wasn't brought up within hail of the monument," said Margaret as she exhibited her spick and span kitchen. "I should hate to be deprived of the privileges of my own kitchen, and I shouldn't like to believe I must live on certain streets or be a Pariah. There is too much of that feeling in this blessed old city, and I must say our Cavalier ancestors did give us pleasure-loving natures as an inheritance. Half the girls I know are pretty and sweet and amiable, but they never read anything but trash, think of nothing but wearing pretty clothes and of having a good time. However, I think they do make good wives and mothers when it comes to settling down. Someone said to me the other day, that Southern girls married only for love and that poverty came in at the door to mock them for being so silly as to think any marriage was better than none; that they didn't mind love flying out of the window half so much as they did going to their graves unmarried. There may be some truth in that, but I think they are generally pretty contented and are satisfied to take life as it comes." Margaret was a great chatterer, and was delighted to get Linda to herself, to air her own views and to learn of Linda's. "Aren't you glad, Linda," she went on, "that you are making a place for yourself in the world? Berk has often said that you were quite different from most of the girls he knew, and that he wished we could be good friends. He says you can talk of other things than dress and gossip, and that you are quite domestic. Are you domestic?" "Why"--Linda paused to consider--"yes, I think I am. I like to keep house. I did for my brother, you know; yet I like a good time and pretty clothes as much as anyone." "Of course. So do I. But you care for other things, too. Berk thinks you are so wonderful to write so well, and to get along so successfully with your teaching." Linda made a little grimace. "Berk is very kind to say so, but that is something for which I do not feel myself fitted and which I really do not enjoy." "So much the more credit for doing it well. Linda, you must come to the Club while you are here. I know you would enjoy it. Mother and I both belong. There is another and more fashionable literary club, but we like ours much the best. The real workers are members of it, not the make-believes. It meets every Tuesday afternoon. We must arrange for you to go with us, and Miss Ri must come, too." Here the elder women entered, and Miss Ri reminded Linda that they were to go to a tea on their way home, so they departed, Linda and Margaret parting like old friends. The tea was a quiet little affair which Linda had promised Miss Ri to attend, as it was at the house of one of the latter's particular friends, and here they lingered till dinner time. As they were going to their rooms a card was handed them. Miss Ri raised her lorgnette to read the name. "Mr. Jeffreys has been here," she exclaimed.