shod feet on a stool, and listened with sympathetic
amusement to the adventures of the trio as vivaciously related by
Eveline Glynn. The California sisters, it developed, had the cigarette
habit, too, and Eveline tried one of "Pussy's" special kind. When the
girls went to their rooms, to which they were conducted by Miss Comstock
with an arm around the waist of Adelle and another about Irene Paul, the
girls agreed that "Pussy" was "all right" and congratulated themselves
upon the perspicacity of their choice.

At Herndon Hall there had been at least the pretense of discipline and
study, but all such childish notions were laughed at in the Villa
Ponitowski. Eveline Glynn thought she had a voice and a teacher was
engaged for her. Irene Paul devoted herself to the art of whistling,
while her sister "went in for posters." Another girl was supposed to be
studying painting and resorted a few afternoons each week to a studio,
well chaperoned. Miss Comstock promised to find something for Adelle to
do in an art way. But there was nothing pedantic or professional about
the Villa Ponitowski. Miss Comstock prided herself upon her outlook. She
knew that her girls would marry in all likelihood, and she endeavored to
give them something of the horizon of broad boulevards and
watering-places as a preparation. All the girls had their own maids, who
brought them the morning cup of coffee whenever they rang--usually not
before noon. The European day, Adelle learned, began about one o'clock
with a variety of expeditions and errands, and frequently ended well
after midnight at opera or play, or dancing party at the home of some
American resident to whom Miss Comstock introduced her charges. This was
during the season. Then there were, of course, expeditions to Rome and
Vienna and Madrid, tours of cathedral towns, inspection of
watering-places, etc.

Behold, thus, the sole descendant of the hard-grubbing, bucolic Clarks
waking from her final nap at eleven in the morning, imbibing her coffee
from a delicate china cup, and nibbling at her _brioche_, while her maid
opened the shutters, started a fire in the grate, and laid out her
dresses, chattering all the time in charming French about delectable
nothings. Addie Clark, surely, would have felt that she had not lived in
vain if she could have beheld her only child at this time, and overheard
the serious debate as to which "_robe_" Mademoiselle Adelle would adorn
herself with for the afternoon,