"Yes. Clever little thing, she knows enough to admit it prettily every now and then, so there is nothing to badger her about. She has even trained Gay to talk of it occasionally. She has done wonders for him; one of the clubmen is backing him to go into the interior-decorating business. Of course he will make good because everyone will feel morally obliged to go there. So the Vondeplosshes on the strength of this have moved to the Touraine, a different sort of apartment house, I assure you. They are entertaining, if you please; everyone asks them everywhere. Gay is painting garlands of old-fashioned flowers in panels for Jill's boudoir. I think I'll have the same thing done in mine." "Gay is painting them?" "Oh, no. Some limp artist who could never get the commission for himself. Gay stands about in a natty blue-serge effect and takes the credit and the check. What's new?"--turning to the beauty doctor. "I'm as dull as the Dead Sea." Miss Flinks informed them of a labour revolt in the West. "Horrid creatures, always wanting more! Well, they won't get it. I think Steve is ridiculous with his banquets and bonuses and all, and upon my word, Mary Faithful has as good an Oriental rug in her office as I have in my house. Tell us something really important, Miss Flinks." Retrieving her error the beauty doctor whispered a scandal concerning the newly married Teddy Markhams, who had had such a violent quarrel the week before that Mrs. Teddy had pushed the piano halfway out the window and police had rushed to the scene thinking it might be another bomb explosion. "How ripping!" Beatrice was all animation, and she gave Miss Flinks no peace until she learned all the details, and the rumour about the actress who had rented an expensive town house for the season and a debutante who was being rushed to a retreat to prevent her marriage to a gypsy violinist who had already taught her the drug habit. Trudy telephoned the latter part of the afternoon, and as it was a gray, blowy day with nothing special to do to revive one's spirits Beatrice urged her to come in for tea--tea to be cocktails and buttered toast. Within a few moments she appeared--a symphony of blonde broadcloth set in black furs, very charming and chic, and so solicitous about Aunt Belle's recently removed mole and the scar left by the electric needle, and so admiring of the two newly beautified ladies that they were quite won in spite of themselves. "Were you near here when you telephoned?" Beatrice asked, curiously. "You weren't ten minutes getting here and you look as spick and span as if you had stepped out of a bandbox." "Look outside and you'll see that Gay and I have had a true case of auto-intoxication!" Outside the window there proved to be a smart, selfish roadster, battleship-gray with vivid scarlet trimmings.