I flung away the cigar and sat up in the chair. “How long has this been going on?” I demanded. “Nearly a year,” replied my wife. “It began as soon as she lost her childishness and developed toward a woman. I’m glad I’ve roused you at last. So long as she was a mere baby they liked her--invited her to their children’s parties--came to hers. But now they’re dropping her. Oh, it’s maddening! They are so sweet and smooth, the vile little daughters of vile mothers!” “Incredible!” said I. “Surely not those sweet, well-mannered girls I’ve seen here at her parties? _They_ couldn’t do that sort of thing. Why, what do those babies know about social position and such nonsense?” “What do they know? What _don’t_ they know?” cried Edna, trembling with rage at her humiliation and at my incredulity. “You _are_ an innocent! There ought to be a new proverb--innocent as a married man. Why, nowadays the children begin their social training in the cradle. They soon learn to know a nurse or a butler from a lady or a gentleman before they learn to walk. They hear the servants talk. They hear their parents talk. Except innocent you everyone nowadays thinks and talks about these things.” “But Margot--our Margot--she doesn’t know!” I said with conviction. Edna laughed harshly. “Know? What kind of mother do you think I am? Of course she knows. Haven’t I been teaching her ever since she began to talk? Why do you suppose I’ve always called her the little duchess?” “She suggests a superior little person,” said I, groping vaguely. “She suggests a superior person because I gave her that name and brought her up to look and act and feel the part. She expects to be a real duchess some day--” Edna reared proudly, and her voice rang out confidently as she added--“and she shall be!” I stared at her. It seemed to me she must be out of her mind. Oh, I was indeed innocent, gentle reader. “I’ve always treated her as a duchess, and have made the servants do it, and have trained her to treat them as if she were a duchess.” A proud smile came into her face, transforming it suddenly back to its loveliness. “The first time I ever read about a duchess--read, knowing what I was reading about--I decided that I would have a daughter and that she should be a duchess.” At any previous time such a sally would have made me laugh. But not then, for I saw that she meant it profoundly, and for the first time I was realizing what had been going on in my family, all unsuspected by me. “But first,” proceeded Edna, “she shall have the highest social position in New York. And you must help if I am to succeed.” The fury burst into her face again. “Those little wretches, snubbing her!--dropping her! I’ll make them pay for it.” “Do you mean to tell me that Margot realizes all this?” said I.