enuinely desirous of mastering her lesson.

"Mercy, no! Married ladies."

"But are there never any gentlemen present?" pursued Mrs. Spragg,
feeling that if this were the case Undine would certainly be
disappointed.

"Present where? At their dinners? Of course--Mrs. Fairford gives the
smartest little dinners in town. There was an account of one she gave
last week in this morning's TOWN TALK: I guess it's right here among my
clippings." Mrs. Heeny, swooping down on her bag, drew from it a handful
of newspaper cuttings, which she spread on her ample lap and proceeded
to sort with a moistened forefinger. "Here," she said, holding one of
the slips at arm's length; and throwing back her head she read, in a
slow unpunctuated chant: '"Mrs. Henley Fairford gave another of her
natty little dinners last Wednesday as usual it was smart small and
exclusive and there was much gnashing of teeth among the left-outs
as Madame Olga Loukowska gave some of her new steppe dances after
dinner'--that's the French for new dance steps," Mrs. Heeny concluded,
thrusting the documents back into her bag.

"Do you know Mrs. Fairford too?" Undine asked eagerly; while Mrs.
Spragg, impressed, but anxious for facts, pursued: "Does she reside on
Fifth Avenue?"

"No, she has a little house in Thirty-eighth Street, down beyond Park
Avenue."

The ladies' faces drooped again, and the masseuse went on promptly: "But
they're glad enough to have her in the big houses!--Why, yes, I know
her," she said, addressing herself to Undine. "I mass'd her for a
sprained ankle a couple of years ago. She's got a lovely manner, but
NO conversation. Some of my patients converse exquisitely," Mrs. Heeny
added with discrimination.

Undine was brooding over the note. "It IS written to mother--Mrs. Abner
E. Spragg--I never saw anything so funny! 'Will you ALLOW your daughter
to dine with me?' Allow! Is Mrs. Fairford peculiar?"

"No--you are," said Mrs. Heeny bluntly. "Don't you know it's the thing
in the best society to pretend that girls can't do anything without
their mothers' permission? You just remember that. Undine. You mustn't
accept invitations from gentlemen without you say you've got to ask your
mother first."

"Mercy! But how'll mother know what to say?"

"Why, she'll say what you tell her to, of course. You'd better tell her
you want to dine with Mrs. Fairford," Mrs. Heeny added humorously, as
she gathered her waterproof together and stooped for her bag.