hard--my hardest--for my happiness and
for yours!"

CHAPTER IX

Mrs. Schmidt, Mrs. McMahon and Miss Sadie Ferguson, whom Cicily had
selected as the principal beneficiaries in her initial work of up-lift,
arrived a half-hour before the time set for the meeting of the Civitas
Society, and were shown into the drawing-room. Mrs. Schmidt, a thin wisp
of faded womanhood, effaced herself in a remote corner, while Mrs.
McMahon, a brawny Amazon with red, round face and shrewdly twinkling
eyes, frankly wandered about the room, scrutinizing the furnishings and
ornaments and commenting on them without restraint. Sadie Ferguson, on
the other hand, seated herself elegantly upright on an upholstered
chair, and disported herself altogether after the manner of heroines of
high degree as described by her favorite Brooklyn author. At times, she
stared intently, as some impressive thing strange to her experience
caught her eye; but always she recalled her manners speedily, and
forthwith relapsed into a languid indifference of demeanor such as
becomes the Vere De Vere. The trio had not long to wait before their
hostess appeared, and greeted them with a genuine cordiality that put
them at their ease, as far as ease was possible in an environment so
novel. She was at pains to pay a compliment to the girl:

"Prettier than ever, Sadie!" she exclaimed, with honest admiration. And,
in fact, the girl would have been charming, but for the disfiguring
effects of an over-gaudy dress and an abominable hat.

"Aw, quit yer kiddin'," Sadie answered coquettishly, intensely pleased
and quite forgetting the Vere De Vere manner in her pleasure over the
compliment. An expression of horror came in her face, as she realized
her violent departure from the ideal; and she added stammeringly: "I
mean, you're really too kind, my dear Mrs. Hamilton." Having achieved
this, the girl drew a long breath of relief. She felt that she had
redeemed herself in the matter of social elegance.

Cicily smiled pleasantly on Sadie, then turned to Mrs. McMahon, for she
was minded to put these women in the best of humors, in order thus to
work toward the avoidance of a strike by means of their influence over
their husbands. She observed the hat that had been the cause of
McMahon's complaint, which was, in truth, a riot of variegated ugliness.
Cicily believed, however, that in this instance the end must justify the
means.

"What a beautiful hat!" she cried, in a tone o