iends who
had broken into New York's next-to-the-top layer of society by means
of the hyphens with which they coupled the names of their first and
second husbands; her two friends, I say, had managed to wedge in a
word or two--all in favor of Jabez Hogg.

The guardian of the two prettiest girls who had ever debutanted in the
Nebraska metropolis emerged from that conference on fire with resolve.
She would marry Helen to Mr. Hogg, thus link together the Hogg and
Burton millions and thereby create an alliance that would take its
place beside any in the country in the matter of bank account.

So confident was she of the power of her will that she did not even
remove her wraps before she sat down to answer Jabez Hogg's letter.
Nor did she bother to ask her maid if Helen and Sadie had returned
from their ride. She did not care to discuss the matter with them. She
had decided. It remained only for weaker wills to yield.

Beginning with a regal flourish of the pen, she wrote:

"MY DEAR MR. HOGG: I received this morning your courteous note,
begging me to persuade Helen to give you a final answer. It pains
me deeply that you should suffer so from her neglect--after all
your kindness. I trust that you will forgive it on the score of
her youth. She is very young and her head has been turned with too
much flattery. She shall be yours--that I can promise you. When
you come on for your annual slaughter-house directors' meeting you
may bring the ring. I have already given the order for the
engraving of the engagement announcements, and I will arrange to
give a reception and dance for Helen at the Plaza. I do not know
how to thank you for putting your French car at our disposal. It
has saved us a great deal of annoyance and bother. Helen has
spoken often of your thoughtfulness"----

Mrs. Burton stayed her flying pen and grimly read the last sentence
aloud. It was not the strict truth, as she was writing it. Helen had
spoken frequently of the convenience of the car, but she had added
that she could never ride in it without feeling that she was going to
run over a pig and hear it squeal.

Mrs. Burton did not waver for more than an instant, however. In a way
of speaking she gripped her conscience by the neck, strangled it, and
threw it into the discard. Then she continued with her letter:

"I have been looking at houses on the avenue and would suggest
that you try and negotiate for the Gladwin mansion.