Mary realized this latter fork was not probable--nor was she unhappy because of it. She sometimes retired to her study to vow eternal wrath upon Trudy Burrows for having attached herself to the household; or to pray that her mother be enlightened to the extent of moving; but beyond an occasional "mad on," as Luke said, Mary viewed life from the angle of the doughnut and not that of the hole. "I wish someone else would try baking these greasy things," she said, coming in with another plateful. "Why don't you slip on a kimono instead of a starched house dress, Mary? Whoever is spick-and-span on Sunday morning?" "Don't get Mary to lecturing," Mrs. Faithful warned between bites. "She'll make us all go to church if we're not careful. Are you going out with Gay to-day, Trudy?" "Yes. And I'm awfully mad at him, too. It's fierce the way he gambles." "Don't be too harsh; it's a mistake to nag too much beforehand. He's a lovely young man and I wish Luke could have one of those green paddock coats. I always like a gentleman's coat with a sealskin collar, don't you?" "If it's paid for." Trudy's eyes darkened. "Just because Gay comes of a wonderful family he thinks he has the keys to the city." "He's a lovely young man," Mrs. Faithful reiterated. "Oh, what did Beatrice Constantine wear when she came down to the office?" "Clothes." Mary was deep in the Sunday paper art section. "She looked like a Christmas tree on fire," Luke supplemented. "Lovely butter-coloured hair she has!" "That will do. She is very nice, but different from our sort." Mary glanced up from her paper. Trudy bridled. "She's no different; she has money. My things have as much style. Gaylord knows her intimately, and he says she is a wretched dancer and pouts if things don't please her. The best tailors and modistes in the country make her things. Who wouldn't look well? If I had one tenth of her income I'd be a more Gorgeous Girl than she is--and don't I wish I had it! Oh, boy! Why, that girl has her maid, the most wonderful jewellery you ever saw, two automobiles of her own and a saddle horse, and her father owns the best apartment house in town, and Beatrice is going to have the best apartment in it when she marries Steve. And you can just bet she knew she was going to marry him a long time ago--because she knew he'd rob the Bank of England to get a fortune. She's flirted with everyone from an English nobleman to the Prince of Siam, and now she's marrying the handsomest, brightest, most devoted cave man in the world." Trudy glanced at Mary. "Yet she doesn't really care for him, she just wants to be married before she is considered passee." Trudy was very proud of her occasional French. "She'll be twenty-six her next birthday!" "Dear me, girls take their time these days; I was eighteen the day Mr. Faithful led me to the altar." "When are you going to get married?" Luke asked Trudy with malice aforethought.