"You mean--about Amherst and Mrs. Amherst? No, but Montague told me of it. It's better so--there is only one of us now for Society to get accustomed to. Moreover, his peace is made, and for him the rest is easy." "It is always easy for the man," Mrs. Mourraille observed. "Yes--and I can understand: his sin is not so scarlet--it's not continuing, so to speak. Ended it is ended. We women have got used to the social evil in the man, but we can't get used to it in the woman. The ethics of it are a thing apart--good to theorize over, but it is the practical view that controls and will control in my case. I realize that I have nothing to hope for from the equitable argument. I'm a woman--I know what to expect from the women. I'm not blaming them. I've no one but myself to blame. Man and woman may be equal before the law where men are the judges, but they are not equal in Society's Court where women are the judges. I shall get small show there, mother dear, small show there! With rare exceptions we women are cruel and bigoted toward our sex, with all the characteristics of cruelty and bigotry on parade." She kissed the elder very fondly. "Now go or I shall not be dressed for dinner." ... "I suppose," she added, "there won't be any guests." "Not this evening," her mother answered. "Do you wish me to ask any one--for a time?" "I wish you to do just as you have always done, _ma mère_. I'll have my dinner in my room whenever I'm _persona non grata_ to your guests." Mrs. Mourraille stopped in the doorway and smiled back at Stephanie. "My guests will meet my daughter or they won't be my guests," she said quietly. Stephanie, in the mirror of her dressing-table, threw her a kiss. "No! no!" she said. "But if you don't mind, you might sometime ask Montague Pendleton and Sheldon Burgoyne." "Together?" "N--o!" Stephanie hesitated. "I think I'd rather have them apart; at least I would rather have Montague alone--Sheldon doesn't matter." V THE CUT OF ONE'S CLOTHES The Emerson pick-up dinner party was a decided success. Even Pendleton admitted it. As for Burgoyne he was quite enthusiastic--possibly because he sat on Miss Emerson's right. Pendleton was on her left. Lorraine had been taken by the hostess--she was not going to let such an opportunity escape her. Old Emerson was sandwiched between Mrs. Burleston and Mrs. Smithers, and was talking like mad of everything but what he should. His wife could, at intervals, catch portions of his conversation, and she made frantically discreet efforts to flag him, but with no result--either because of the numerous cocktails he had imbibed in the grill, or because he refused to understand. As it was, Mrs. Burleston and Mrs. Smithers, as well as the others near him, were convulsed with merriment as he rattled on, serenely indifferent to his spouse's signals and attempts to distract him.