n his
stocking feet, even on Sundays when all the neighborhood was going by to
church,--very shocking to Milly's sense of propriety. And the boy had
hung around saloons. Now where was he?

"Well, daughter, can't you tell us what you did at Co-mo?" Horatio
urged....

No, decidedly, this sort of thing would not do for Milly!

VIII

MILLY'S CAMPAIGN

Almost at once Milly began the first important campaign of her life--to
move the household to a more advantageous neighborhood. One morning she
said casually at breakfast,--

"The Kemps are going to their new house when they come in from the
Lake.... Why can't we live some place where there are nice people?"

"What's the matter with this?" Horatio asked, crowding flannel cakes
into his mouth.

"Oh!" Milly exclaimed witheringly. "My friends are all moving away."

"You forget that your father has two years more of his lease of this
house," her grandmother remarked severely.

And the campaign was on, not to be relaxed until the family abandoned
the West Side a year later. It was a campaign fought in many subtle
feminine ways, chiefly between Milly and her grandmother. Needless to
say, the family atmosphere was not always comfortable for the mild
Horatio.

"It all comes of your ambition to go with rich people," Mrs. Ridge
declared. "Since your visit at the Lake, you have been discontented."

"I was never contented with _this_!" Milly retorted quite truthfully.
What the old lady regarded as a fault, Milly considered a virtue.

"And you are neglecting your church work to go to parties."

"Oh, grandma!" the girl exclaimed wearily. "Chicago isn't Euston, Pa.,
grandma!"

As if the young people's clubs of the Second Presbyterian Church could
satisfy the social aspirations of a Milly Ridge! She was fast becoming
conscious of the prize that had been given her--her charm and her
beauty--and an indefinable force was driving her on to obtain the
necessary means of self-exploitation.

It was true, as her grandmother said, that more and more this autumn
Milly was away from her home. Mrs. Gilbert had not forgotten her, nor
the other people she had met at the Lake. More and more she was being
asked to dinners and dances, and spent many nights with good-natured
friends.

"She might as well board over there," Horatio remarked forlornly, "for
all I see of the girl."

"Milly is a selfish girl," her grandmother commented severely.

"She's young, and she wants her fli