"It made Mrs. Smith ill," added Mrs. Kingsley. "She told me Fanchon tormented the life out of her, trying to learn what Lane said. Mrs. Smith would not tell. But Fanchon came to me and _I_ told her. Such a perfectly furious girl! She'll not wear _that_ dress or dance _that_ dance very soon again. The story is all over town." "Friends, there are two sides to every question," interposed the forceful Mrs. Wrapp. "If Lane cared to be popular he would have used more tact. But I don't think his remark was an insult. It was pretty raw, I admit. But the dress was indecent and the dance was rotten. Helen told me Fanchon was half shot. So how could she be insulted?" Mrs. Maynard and Mrs. Kingsley, as usual, received Mrs. Wrapp's caustic and rather crude opinions with as good grace as they could muster. Plain it was that they felt themselves a shade removed from this younger and newer member of society. But they could not show direct antagonism to her influence any more than they could understand the common sense and justice of her arguments. "No one will ever invite him again," declared Mrs. Maynard. "He's done in Middleville," echoed Mrs. Kingsley. And that perhaps was a gauntlet thrown. "Rot!" exclaimed Mrs. Wrapp, with more force than elegance. "I'll invite Daren Lane to my house.... You women don't get the point. Daren Lane is a soldier come home to die. He gave himself. And he returns to find all--all this sickening--oh, what shall I call it? What does he care whether or not we invite him? Can't you see that?" "There's a good deal in what you say," returned Mrs. Kingsley, influenced by the stronger spirit. "Maybe Lane hated the new styles. I don't blame him much. There's something wrong with our young people. The girls are crazy. The boys are wild. Few of them are marrying--or even getting engaged. They'll do _anything_. The times are different. And we mothers don't know our daughters." "Well, I know _mine_" returned Mrs. Maynard, loftily. "What you say may be true generally, but there are exceptions. My daughter has been too well brought up." "Yes, Margie is well-bred," retorted Mrs. Wrapp. "We'll admit she hasn't gone to extremes, as most of our girls have. But I want to observe to you that she has been a wall-flower for a year." "It certainly _is_ a problem," sighed Mrs. Kingsley. "I feel helpless--out of it. Elinor does precisely what she wants to do. She wears outlandish clothes. She smokes and--I'm afraid drinks. And dances--_dreadfully._ Just like the other girls--no better, no worse. But with all that I think she's good. I feel the same as Jane feels about that. In spite of this--this modern stuff I believe all the girls are fundamentally the same as ten years ago."