Society's Nothingness and Its Sacrifice. Our scenes change to New York, six years later, "Bridge" at Mrs. Lambert's! Every lady within her circle of friends, rejoiced when the date for such an event occurred. First, because Mrs. Lambert was at all times a charming hostess. Second, and chiefly, she was as generous as she was charming. At her affairs, the prizes offered were the most expensive the society season of that special set produced. Now, Mrs. Lambert was in her glory today. She was about to entertain a guest of importance, namely. Miss Edith Esterbrook, twenty-year-old daughter of a very wealthy and distinguished family, for whom she had many years possessed a "social longing." Through careful and tactful maneuvers the great privileged intimacy with the Esterbrooks was at last established, and today, for the first time, Mrs. Lambert could introduce Miss Edith to her willing circle. The few times that she had met the girl, she noticed her quiet reserved beauty with a sort of awe. Rumor declared that society counted her an intellectual bore and only tolerated her for her family's sake. But that mattered little to Mrs. Lambert's aspiring mind. The only daughter of the Esterbrooks could afford to be eccentric. Her individual character was the last consideration. A half hour before the guests arrived, the hostess descended to the parlors. Hastily she scanned the tables for card-playing, and noticed with satisfaction that her new maid had intelligence enough to arrange every detail most satisfactorily. Then she walked over to the long table in the farthest room, and inspected the array of refreshments spread daintily for a buffet luncheon. Everything conceivably appropriate was there to tempt the most fastidious tastes of the "bridge players." There was absolutely nothing to criticize--the arrangement was perfect--and Mrs. Lambert trilled a gay little song in a low happy contralto, as she sailed through the large spacious rooms, to view herself in the long mirror. Her dark, massive brown hair was thrown gracefully back in a full fluffy pompadore effect. Beneath this luxuriance, a face of sensitive delicate beauty smiled contentedly. The small, irregular features seemed perfectly in harmony, one with the other, and the dark blue eyes were kind. The world had used Mrs. Lambert well, and with customary ease, she had used the world well; that is, that part of the world which she met daily in her own sphere. There was absolutely nothing aggressive in her nature. She would not care to search to find out how "the other half lived." Her nature was the type that smiles impartially on all and calmly sums up the philosophy of life in one trite phrase--"Live and let live." From her earliest remembrance, she was admired, petted and loved, and now after nine years of married life, her husband was still obedient to her every capricious whim.