“Oh!” The acquaintance of her childhood considered her thoughtfully. “The plot thickens. Got it all doped out, haven’t you? Well, happy days, old thing, but I’d breeze around a little and look ’em over first! And speaking of such, did I tell you I know your boss?” “Mr. Carey, you mean? Nancy’s father?” “No, Peter Parker. (Sounds like ‘Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers,’ doesn’t it?) _You_ know--his dad was old Carey’s partner, and this bird inherited his share of the mill. Met him at Pasadena last winter, and we got talking about the places we went, and when I mentioned this, he mentioned the Altonia mill.” “His mother is a remarkable woman, in her way,” contributed Mrs. Jennings. “She is president of the Federated Clubs of the whole country, and they say she’s the best woman speaker in America. Of course, that’s all very well for women who like it and haven’t any home cares. As far as I’m concerned--” she gave a delicate pat to the curl which was gummed against her temple--“I never seemed to find time for _clubs_.” “Peter’s a scream,” Janice took up the tale. “Honestly, I think he’s got the best line I ever heard in my life. You know, he was canned from four prep schools and three colleges, and----” Her guest’s lip curled. “I hate and detest him more than anybody else in the world!” Her young hostess laid down her ramekin fork and looked at her with bright mouth open. “Say, how do you get that way? Hate _Peter_? Peter _Parker_? Woman, it can’t be done! Besides--did you ever meet him?” “No, but I don’t need to meet him to know all about him! I know he’s idle-born, overfed, underworked”--her father’s, vehement adjectives, these--“grinding down the mill workers--the _children_ so he can live and travel and--loaf--in lazy luxury!” The color had drained out of her golden olive face and it looked like ivory in its frame of coppery hair. Her eyes blazed, the pupils dilated blackly. “He’s a waster, a parasite!” “Help!” cried Babe, jovially. “Don’t blame me! Blame the Club President! She brought him up--or didn’t!” “But, Janice, can’t you see what a cancerous growth people like that are in the life of the nation?” (The violent weekly had contributed this, but she had repeated it until she honestly thought it her own.) “They take everything; they give nothing! They----” “Hire a hall!” the other girl cut her briskly short. “Say do you mind--Eddie always cuts one number to step with me.” She got eagerly to her feet and went into the arms of the horn player and they moved slowly away together across the polished floor.