I was left without aid from the
_ennuied_ for another ten days. Jill Briggs had a wedding anniversary
and relied on Beatrice's aid. Of course she could not refuse, and
Trudy, who, by the way, has come on very rapidly, persuaded Beatrice
to take a booth at a charity kettledrum.

"So after several weeks my wife appeared on my business horizon and
hung that mirror up and had those other things moved in and then she
discovered that the impudent girls were all copying her coats and hats
and stuff and even used her sort of perfume, and she decided that her
duty lay not in making me a competent secretary but in reforming these
extravagant young persons so that she could wear a model gown in
comfort and not see it copied within a month. It was quite an
experience for her; she was here about five days. Miss Sartwell just
moved her desk out there and we managed nicely. Beatrice also had a
private teacher for typewriting and so on, but she gave it all up
because she felt the confinement and long hours made her head ache and
she gained weight. She fled in haste. Sorry she had to do so, but
under the circumstances it was better to jeopardize my business career
than her own figure!"

"Aren't you a little unfair?" Mary said, seriously.

"Am I? I never thought so. Wait--I must finish the tale. For a whole
week after being my business partner she tried what she called
holiness as a cosmetic, and became high-church and quite trying. At
the end of that time she felt a veritable dynamo of nerves and
scandal and proceeded to become a liberated and advanced woman. You'll
soon enough see what I mean. She doesn't run to short-haired ladies
with theories so much as to hollow-eyed gentlemen embroidering cantos
in the drawing room and trying to make the world safe for poetry.
De-luxe adventuresses strike her as harmonious just now. You'll hear
about one Sezanne del Monte who is staying in town and living off of
Bea and her set."

"The woman who is divorced every season--and stars in musical
comedy?"

"The same. Sezanne is now writing the intimate story of her life; sort
of heart throbs instead of punctuation marks--lots of asterisks, you
know, separating the paragraphs. Beatrice is going to finance the
publication of it and Gay is going to be the sales manager. Yes, it's
funny, but a blamed nuisance when you come home and you find yourself
wandering through a crowd of Sezanne del Montes and Gays and Trudys,
all bent on playing parlour ste