eard of."

"Well, I think Lil may say good-by to her Dicky-bird now," returned
the first speaker. "That bride is quite the prettiest piece of flesh
and blood I've seen for many days."

"She is all of that," agreed the other, "She holds all the best cards,
but you'll find she is too statuesque and dignified to play them.
I saw her face tonight when Lil was talking to her. She is not
accustomed to Lil's kind, and she does not like her friendship with
Dicky."

"You can't blame her for that," interrupted the soprano. "I am sure I
would not like to see my husband dancing attendance on Lillian Gale."

"No, of course not," the contralto replied; "but she will be just
fool enough to show Dicky her feelings, and Dicky, who is the soul of
loyalty to his friends, will resent her attitude and try to make it up
to Lil and Harry by being extra nice to them. It's too bad. But then,
these marble statue sort of women always sacrifice their love for
their pride or their fool notions or propriety."

"It will be as good as a play to watch the developments," the soprano
commented. "Come on, we'll be too late for the curtain."

I felt suddenly faint, and the room appeared to whirl around me. The
maid touched me on the arm.

"Are you ill, madame? Here!" and she held a glass of water to my lips.
I drank it and motioned her away.

"I'll be all right in a moment," I murmured. "Thank you, but I am
quite well."

So this was what marriage would mean to me, a contest with another
woman for my husband's love! A fierce anger took possession of me.
One moment I regretted my marriage to Dicky, the next I was fiercely
primitive as any savage woman in my desire to crush my rival. I could
have strangled Lillian Gale in that moment. Then common sense came
back to me. What was it that woman had said? I had all the best cards
in my hand? Well! I would play them. I felt sure that Dicky loved
me. I would not jeopardize that love for a temporary pride. I would
eliminate Lillian Gale from Dicky's life, but I would bide my time to
do it.

IV

DIVIDED OPINIONS

If anybody wishes an infallible recipe for taking the romance out
of life, I can recommend washing a pile of dishes which have been left
over from the day before, especially if there be among them a number
of greasy pots and pans. Restoring order to a badly cluttered room is
another glamour destroyer, but the first prize, I stoutly affirm, goes
to the dishes.

An especially aggrava