“Probably you’re right,” said I. “How it infuriates me,” she went on, “to think I’d have been spared all the humiliations and heartaches I’ve suffered, if you had used your influence with Robert Armitage months--years ago. But no--you don’t want me to get on. You wanted to stick in the mud. So I had to suffer--and Margot, too.” “Well, it’s all right now,” said I, probably as indifferently as I felt. Why had God seen fit to create women without the sense of humor? Perhaps to save men from falling altogether under their rule. “The sufferings of that poor child!” cried Edna. “And the very day after Mrs. Armitage came, Gracie Fortescue asked her to a party, and all the girls have taken her up. Gracie Fortescue is a niece of Hilda Armitage. Her brother married a Fortescue.” “Really?” said I. “And Margot is happy?” “No thanks to you,” retorted Edna sourly. “Well, plunge in, my dear,” said I, beginning to examine the papers before me on the desk. “Only--spare me as much as possible. I need all my time and strength for my work.” “But you’ll have to go with me to dinners, and to the opera occasionally. I can’t do this thing altogether alone.” “Say I’m an invalid. Say I’m away. They don’t want me, anyhow. Armitage doesn’t go with his wife.” “But that’s different,” cried she in a fever. “_She_ has always had social position. It doesn’t matter if people do talk scandal about her. _I_ can’t afford to cause gossip.” “Why should they gossip? But no matter. I don’t want to worry with that--that higher life, let us call it. Or to be worried with it. Do the best you can for me. I’m a man’s man--always have been--always shall be. If you’ve got to have a man to take you about, dig up one somewhere. I’m willing to pay him well.” “Always money!” exclaimed she in deep disgust. I laughed. “Not a bad thing, money,” said I. “It would never have got me Mrs. Armitage’s friendship,” said she loftily. “You think so?” said I amiably. “All right, if it pleases you. But--take my advice, my dear--enjoy yourself to the limit with highfaluting _talk_ about the worthlessness of money and that sort of rot. But don’t for a minute lose your point of view and convince yourself.” “Thank God I’ve got a vein of refinement, of idealism in my nature,” said Edna. “I wouldn’t have as sordid an opinion of human nature as you have for anything in the world.” “You can afford not to have it, my dear,” said I. “So long as I know the truth, and so make the necessary money to keep us going, you are free to indulge your lovely delusions. Have your beautiful, unmercenary friendship with Mrs. Armitage and the other ladies. I’ll continue to make it financially worth their husbands’ while to encourage the friendships.” “I thought so!” cried she. “You believe Mrs. Armitage has taken me up for business reasons.” “If you had been some poor woman--” I began mildly.