“Oh—Oh!” Marjorie shuddered, and covered her burning cheeks with her hands. “So that is what his illness—I can’t believe it—My son intoxicated— What shall we do? I can’t bear it.” “There, there, Marjorie,” Hugh patted her shoulder consolingly. “You must control yourself, and not create a scene. I’m sorry if any of this has leaked out among our guests, but I’m afraid it has. Now we must save the situation by making as light of it as possible. It really isn’t anything so terrible. He will be himself in the morning, and then I’ll lecture him good. It seems he met a crowd of the boys when he came in from college and they persuaded him to go to dinner with them. This is the result. He is only a boy after all, you must remember, and is easily led.” “That’s just it,” Marjorie answered tragically. “He is only a boy, and can be easily led—God only knows where to.” “Come, now, it isn’t as bad as that. You’re making a mountain out of a mole hill as usual, but I must go back to him,” as disturbing sounds again issued forth. “Go downstairs and brave it out. You _must_—if not for your own sake—for the sake of the boy himself.” “For his sake I’ll do the best I can.” She dried her eyes and turned toward the stairs. “But, oh, Hugh, how can you view this so lightly? How you’ve changed!” Marjorie never remembered how she managed to get through the rest of the evening, going about among her guests with a smiling face and an aching heart. When Hugh joined her, he whispered to her that Howard was sleeping soundly, and would probably not awaken until late the next afternoon. Eventually everything, pleasant or unpleasant, has its ending, and at 3 A.M. the last guest had departed, and the servants were extinguishing the lights. “Wasn’t it splendid?” Elinor enthused. “I had a wonderful time—I didn’t have nearly enough dances to go around. All the boys were wild about me and I know the girls all envied me. Wasn’t I a great success?” “You certainly were, you little egotist,” Hugh laughed. “What ever in the world happened to Howard? I heard a couple of the boys talking, and from what I gathered, he came home soused.” “Elinor!” Marjorie was shocked. “Where did you ever acquire such slang? Surely you didn’t learn it at Miss Grayson’s? I can’t understand half of the things you say, but I do know that they sound shockingly vulgar.” “No, mother of mine,” Elinor laughed lightly. Nothing—not even her mother’s disapproval could worry her after her evening’s triumph. “I didn’t learn any slang from Miss Grayson, but you must remember that I knew lots of girls there. Most of them thought it modern and up to date to use slang. Oh, but I can’t explain it to you, you’re so old-fashioned.”