yone but the interior decorator?" This with an
arch expression and a slight twinkle of the blue eyes--it could not
quite be called a wink.

"I'm afraid so, Mrs. Vondeplosshe. I leave such things to Beatrice."

"Oh, I understand." Trudy took her cue quickly. "It is out of your
province. You can't do big, gigantic things if you bother with
doll-house notions. Now I really prefer--oh, far prefer--men like
yourself, who----"

Steve started the electric fan whirring.

"Don't you ever long for camping trips or long horseback rides--something
away from the everlasting fuss and feathers? I do. Would you believe
it?" she fibbed glibly.

Had Steve been seventy-five he might have believed her. But he merely
nodded and said that if there was a draft from the fan she could sit
outside.

Piqued, Trudy turned to Mary Faithful.

"Mary is a wonderful girl, isn't she? Of course you have a Gorgeous
Girl, too--but she is for playtime. I should think it would mean a
great deal to have Mary for your chief confidante--she is so good, and
yet human and----"

Steve stood up abruptly and wondered why no kind friend saw fit to
enter at this moment. He would have really welcomed Trudy's husband.
He looked at Trudy briefly, it did not take Steve long these days to
look at Gorgeous Girls and Gorgeous Girl seconds and realize the whole
story of their purpose and struggle--things, to have more gayly
coloured or delicate coloured, gold, silver, velvet, carved, perfumed
or whatever-the-mode-dictated things, flaunting these priceless sticks
and stones in each other's faces with pretended friendship.

He did not answer this last lead at conversation, but, not discouraged,
Trudy went on down the list of her resources.

"How is dear old Mr. Constantine?"

"The same." Steve thanked fortune his father-in-law was paralyzed and
could furnish a neutral topic of debate.

"Poor dear. So hard for Bea, too. She says she will not do much
this season. She feels if--if it should not be much longer, you
understand"--a lowered tone of voice and a sigh--"that she wants to
have nothing on her conscience. Still, a sick room is wearing, but
of course love makes any task easy."

Steve suppressed a smile. It was surprising how well this funny little
person managed to ape the jargon and chatter of Bea's set as well as
their mode of appearance. She did it mightily well, everything
considered, and when she proceeded to offer to go and sit with the old
dear or br