"But," Jessie was going on, "I knew mama was my best friend. And when she said, 'Six months after marriage you'll be quite used to him and won't in the least mind, and you'll be so glad you married somebody who was quiet and good,' I married him. And I love him dearly, Gus, and we make each other _so_ happy!" I laughed--Jessie doesn't mind; she don't understand what laughter means in most people. I was thinking of what Rachel told me the other day. She said to Carteret, "It must be great fun wondering what Jessie will do next." And he looked at her in his dumb way and said: "What she'll do _next_? Lord, I ain't caught up with _that_. I'm just about six weeks behind on her record all the time." But to go back to Jessie's talk to me, she went on: "And Mr. Burke's not so dreadfully unattractive, dear. Of course, he's far from handsome, and--well, he's the son of Mr. and Mrs. Burke--but though they're quite common and all that--" I found myself furiously angry. "I don't think he's at all bad-looking," I said, pretending to be judicial. "He's big and strong and sensible; and what more does a woman usually ask for? And I don't at all agree with you about his father and mother, either--especially his mother. No, Jessie, dear, my objections aren't yours at all. I'm sure you wouldn't understand them, so let's not talk about it." February 3. Yesterday Mrs. Tevis sent for me. That was a good deal of an impertinence, but I'm getting very sensible about impertinences. She lives in grand style in a big, new house in K Street--it, like everything about her, is "regardless of expense." The Tevises have been making the most desperate efforts to "break in" last season and this, and as Washington is, up to a certain point, very easy for strangers with money, they've gone pretty far. I suppose Washington's like every other capital--the people are so used to all sorts of queer strangers and everything is so restless and changeful that no one minds adding to his list of acquaintances any person who offers entertainment and isn't too appalling. And the Tevises have been spending money like water. It's queer how people can go everywhere that anybody goes and can seem to be "right in it," yet not be in it at all. That's the way it is with the Tevises. They are at every big affair in town--White House, embassies, private houses. But they're never invited to the smaller, more or less informal things. And when they do appear at a ball or anywhere they're treated with formal politeness. They know there's something wrong, but they can't for the life of them see what it is. And that's not strange, for who can see the line that's instinctively drawn between social sheep and social goats in the flock that's apparently all mixed up? Everybody knows the sheep on sight; everybody knows the goats. And all act accordingly without anything being said.