“How was she dressed?” asked Mrs. Fordyce, whose busy mind was taken up with replenishing Janet’s wardrobe. “I don’t know, I didn’t glance under the table,” growled Fordyce. “I hear Mrs. Calhoun-Cooper and Pauline are called ‘High-Lo,’” added Janet, winking mischievously at Marjorie. “And who is ‘Jack in the game’?” demanded Fordyce. “Her latest admirer,” retorted his daughter, flippantly. “What roused your ire at the dinner?” demanded Mrs. Fordyce, bestowing a frown on Janet. “Janet’s contemporaries made up the guests, Judge and Mrs. Walbridge and I being thrown in for good measure,” smiled Fordyce. “Left more or less to myself I watched the arrival of the young people, and I give you my word, Flora, the main endeavor of each guest appeared to be how to enter the drawing-room without greeting their host and hostess--and most of them succeeded in their purpose. I have seen better manners in a lumber camp.” “What would the older generation do if they didn’t have us to criticize?” asked Janet, raising her hands in mock horror. “Let me tell you, young lady, if I catch you forgetting the manners your mother taught you, I’ll pack you off to a convent,” warned Fordyce. “You needn’t get so awfully excited,” objected his daughter, looking a trifle subdued. “I’m sure some of the married people are just as rude.” “The more shame to them; they are old enough to know better,” declared Fordyce. “Life is too short to bother with ill-bred and stupid people. I came to Washington to avoid them.” “Pray, who sent you here?” inquired Marjorie. “I thought a friend,” Fordyce’s eyes twinkled. “Now I’ve mingled in Capital society, I’m beginning to believe that my friend had a perverted sense of humor.” “You are too harsh in your judgment, Calderon,” put in Mrs. Fordyce. “Rudeness we have with us everywhere, whereas in Washington, while there are numerous _nouveaux riches_ seeking social recognition, who think lack of manners shows _savoir faire_, there are also many distinguished men and women spending the winter here. In addition the resident circle is certainly most charming and cultivated. The people who strive for vulgar ostentatious display are grafted from other cities.” “I have no desire to be put in that class,” remarked Fordyce. “So, Janet, mind your p’s and q’s.” Janet rose abruptly. “’Nuff said, Daddy. Are you going downtown, Marjorie?” “Yes. Did you wish to see me, Mrs. Fordyce?” “I will be greatly obliged if you will stop at Galt’s, Marjorie, and order the articles I had put aside yesterday, sent to me; then please stop at Small’s....” “I think I’ll go with you,” volunteered Janet. “Hurry then,” Fordyce darted an impatient look at the mantel clock. “Two thirty-five. I’ll send you both down in the motor, and you can stop at the bank, Janet, and draw a check for me. I’ll go and make it out; come to the library before you go,” and he left the room, followed by Janet.