girls in
his day!"

People about them were tittering. One young man burst into a guffaw.
Madame Zattiany was calmly eating her dinner. The tirade might have
fallen on deaf ears.

Clavering's skin had turned almost black. His eyes looked murderous.
But he did not raise his voice. "Go back to your table," he said
peremptorily. "You've accomplished your revenge and I've had all I
propose to stand. . . . By God! If you don't get out this minute I'll
pick you up and carry you out and straight to your grandmother."

"Yes you would--make a scene."

"The scene could hardly be improved. Will you go?"

He half rose. Even Madame Zattiany glanced at him apprehensively.

Miss Oglethorpe laughed uncertainly. "Oh, very well. At least we
never furnish material for your newspapers. That's just one thing we
think beneath us." She rose and extended her hand. "Good night,
Madame Zattiany," she said with a really comical assumption of the
grand manner. "It has been a great pleasure to meet you."

Madame Zattiany took the proffered hand. "Good night," she said
sweetly. "Your little comedy has been most amusing. Many thanks."

Miss Oglethorpe jerked her shoulders. "Well, console dear unky. He'd
like the floor to open and swallow him. Ta! Ta!"

She ran back to her table, and its hilarity was shortly augmented.

Madame Zattiany looked at Clavering aghast. "But it is worse than I
supposed!" she exclaimed. "It is really a tragedy. Poor Mrs.
Oglethorpe." Then she laughed, silently but with intense amusement.
"I wish she had been here! After all! . . . Nevertheless, it is a
tragedy. An Oglethorpe! A mere child intoxicated . . . and truly
atrocious manners. Why don't her people put her in a sanitarium?"

"Parents count about as much today as women counted in the cave era.
But it is abominable that you should be made conspicuous."

"Oh, that! I have been conspicuous all my life. And you must admit
that she had the centre of the stage! If any one is to be
commiserated, it is you. But you really behaved admirably; I could
only admire your restraint."

Clavering's ferment subsided, and he returned her smile. "I hope I
didn't express all I felt. Murder would have been too good for her.
But you are an angel. And for all her bravado you must have made her
feel like the little vulgarian she is. Heavens, but the civilization
varnish is thin!--and when they deliberately rub it off----"

"Tell me of this