looked at askance? Are you
going to be dowdy and frumpy and old-fashioned?"

"No. But I'll never wear anything again that can be called immoral.
I want to be able to say why I wear a dress. You haven't answered my
question yet. Why do you wear what you frankly admit is disgusting?"

"I don't know, Carley," replied Eleanor, helplessly. "How you harp on
things! We must dress to make other women jealous and to attract men. To
be a sensation! Perhaps the word 'immoral' is not what I mean. A woman
will be shocking in her obsession to attract, but hardly more than that,
if she knows it."

"Ah! So few women realize how they actually do look. Haze Ruff could
tell them."

"Haze Ruff. Who in the world is he or she?" asked Eleanor.

"Haze Ruff is a he, all right," replied Carley, grimly.

"Well, who is he?"

"A sheep-dipper in Arizona," answered Carley, dreamily.

"Humph! And what can Mr. Ruff tell us?"

"He told me I looked like one of the devil's angels--and that I dressed
to knock the daylights out of men."

"Well, Carley Burch, if that isn't rich!" exclaimed Eleanor, with a peal
of laughter. "I dare say you appreciate that as an original compliment."

"No.... I wonder what Ruff would say about jazz--I just wonder,"
murmured Carley.

"Well, I wouldn't care what he said, and I don't care what you say,"
returned Eleanor. "The preachers and reformers and bishops and rabbis
make me sick. They rave about jazz. Jazz--the discordant note of our
decadence! Jazz--the harmonious expression of our musicless, mindless,
soulless materialism!--The idiots! If they could be women for a while
they would realize the error of their ways. But they will never, never
abolish jazz--never, for it is the grandest, the most wonderful, the
most absolutely necessary thing for women in this terrible age of
smotheration."

"All right, Eleanor, we understand each other, even if we do not agree,"
said Carley. "You leave the future of women to chance, to life, to
materialism, not to their own conscious efforts. I want to leave it to
free will and idealism."

"Carley, you are getting a little beyond me," declared Eleanor,
dubiously.

"What are you going to do? It all comes home to each individual woman.
Her attitude toward life."

"I'll drift along with the current, Carley, and be a good sport,"
replied Eleanor, smiling.

"You don't care about the women and children of the future? You'll
not deny yourself now, and think and work, and suff