four?"

"Gussie has improved wonderful," replied Mrs. Jackson pacifically.

"_Improved!_ If you call goin' around passin' of them up that she's
knowed well 'improved' why then she has improved wonderful. Snip!"

"I don't think she really aimed to pass you up."

"I wasn't thinkin' of myself," replied Mrs. Tutts hotly, "I was thinking
of Essie Tisdale. I hope Mis' Symes don't come around to call on me--I'm
kind of perticular who I entertain."

Mrs. Jackson's hard blue eyes began to shine, but Mrs. Jackson had been
something of a warrior herself in her day and knew a warrior when she
saw one. She had no desire to engage in a hand to hand conflict with
Mrs. Tutts, whose fierceness she was well aware was more than surface
deep, and she read in that person's alert pose a disconcerting readiness
for action. It was a critical moment, one which required tact, for a
single injudicious word would precipitate a fray of which Mrs. Jackson
could not be altogether sure of the result. Besides, poised as she was
like a winged Mercury on the threshold of Society, she could not afford
any low scene with Mrs. Tutts. Conquering her resentment, Mrs. Jackson
said conciliatingly--

"Yes, of course, now we 're married it's different--we _have_ to be
perticular who we entertain. As Mis' Symes says--'Society must draw the
line somewhere!'"

Mrs. Tutts searched her face in quick suspicion.

"Who'd she say it about?"

"Promise me that this won't go no further--hope to die?--but to tell the
truth we was speakin' of Essie Tisdale."

Mrs. Tutts looked mystified.

"What's she done?"

In unconscious imitation of Mrs. Symes, Mrs. Jackson curled her little
finger and smiled a slow, deprecating smile--

"You see she works _out_--she's really a servant."

Mrs. Tutts nodded in entire comprehension.

"I know; back East in Dakoty we always looked down on them more or less
as was out'n out hired girls. But out here I've aimed to treat everybody
the same."

"I'll say that for you, Mis' Tutts," declared Mrs. Jackson generously,
"you've never showed no diffrunce to nobody."

"I'm glad you think so," said Mrs. Tutts modestly, "and I don't mean to
pass Essie Tisdale up altogether."

"Ner me," declared Mrs. Jackson, "she's a perfeckly good girl so far as
I know."

"Where do you suppose Mis' Symes got them cards printed?" inquired Mrs.
Tutts. "I gotta git Tutts to git to work and git me some."

"Over to the _Courier_ office I should think," M