Steve wondered if he had heard correctly. "You don't imagine for an instant that Trudy will not go? She boarded there; they did everything for her." Beatrice shrugged her shoulders. "She was phoning me before lunch and is all agog with excitement. Poor little thing, it means a lot for her. She will be ready at three and I am to call for her." "I don't think she understands the funeral is to-day. I know she is heartless and shallow, but even she would scarcely omit such a duty." Beatrice gave a long sigh. "Dear me, you ought to have been an evangelist. I can't understand why you suddenly become punctilious and altruistic. For years you never did anything but try to make money and wonder if I would marry you--you never cared who was dead or what happened as long as you were secure." "Quite true. But I have made a fortune and married you, and it is time for other things." "You are welcome to them," she said, quite enjoying the argument. "Besides, I sent my card with the flowers." "It isn't the same as going yourself, it is your duty to go, Bea. The girl has taken the brunt of business while we played and she has only the reward of a salary. Her mother has died, which means that her home is gone. I call it thick to choose a bridge party instead of paying a humane debt." "Why am I dragged into it? She isn't working for me! Papa never asked me to go when any of his people had relatives who died. I don't think he ever went himself unless there was a claim to be adjusted." "I shouldn't ask it if it were any one else--but Mary Faithful is different." "You are quite ardent in your defence of her. Be sensible, Steve. What does it matter whether I go or don't go? I think it quite enough if you appear. Now if she were in need of actual money----" "Oh, certainly!" he said, bitterly. "That would give you the chance to play off Lady Bountiful, drive up in state with your check book and accept figurative kisses on the hand! But when a plain American business girl who has served me more loyally than she has herself loses her mother you won't be a few moments late at a bridge party in order to pay her the respect employers should pay their employees. I don't blame Trudy--I expect nothing of her--but I do blame you." "So my plans are to be set aside----?" "Plans!" he interrupted. "If someone else were to tell you that they had an East Indian yogi who was going to give a seance this very afternoon you would hotfoot it to the telephone to inform Trudy that you must break your engagement with her, and send word to your original hostess as well. That is about all your plans amount to." Beatrice's eyes had grown slanting, shining with rage. "I wish you would remember you are speaking to your wife and not to an employee. I would not go to that funeral now if it meant--if it meant a divorce." She pushed her chair back from the table--they were at luncheon--and stood up indignantly.