d, presently, "It is
a perfect tinder box. Papa knows the man who built it."

Trudy flushed. "We are merely trying out love in a cliffette," she
said, sweetly, "instead of the old-style cottage. We can't expect
anything like your apartment. We have that prospect to look forward
to. Besides, we have the advantage of knowing just who our real
friends are," she added, smiling her prettiest.

Beatrice disposed of another chocolate. She told herself she was being
placed in an awkward position. She had occasion to keep thinking so
every moment of her visit, for Trudy hastened to add that she had
never liked office work and yet Mr. O'Valley had been so good to her,
and wasn't it splendid that America was a country where one had a
chance and could rise to whatsoever place one deserved; and when one
thought of Beatrice's own dear papa and handsome husband, well, it was
all quite inspiring and wonderful--until Beatrice was as uncomfortable
about Steve's goat tending and her father's marital selection of a
farmer's hired girl as Trudy really was of the apartment and her
second-hand frock.

Trudy lost no time in introducing the magic vanishing-cream and liquid
face power, and before the call ended Beatrice had ordered five
dollars' worth of each and some for Aunt Belle, and she had offered to
take Trudy to her bridge club some time soon.

As the door closed Trudy sank back in her chair, informing the
imitation fireplace joyously: "It was almost too easy; I didn't have
to work as hard as I really wanted to." Wearily she dragged off her
tea gown for a bungalow apron and then prepared a supper of
delicatessen baked beans and instantaneous pudding for her lord and
master.

* * * * *

The dinner with the O'Valleys was equally fruitful of results.
Despite Steve's protests that he did not wish to know Gay and that
Trudy was impossible he was forced to listen to their inane jokes
and absurd flatteries and to look at Trudy in her taupe chiffon with
exclamatory strands of burnt ostrich, and watch her deft fashion
of handling his wife, realizing that people with one-cylinder
brains and smart-looking, redheaded wives usually get by with things!

After their guests had departed Steve began brusquely: "Do you
like'em?"

"No; I told you before that they amused me. She is fun, and poor Gay
is a dear."

"Are you going to have them round all the time? That woman's laugh
gets on my nerves, and I