d-blooded truth in society!"

"Why, no, that isn't it," said Puddy. "We are going out to have a good
time."

"Oh, you slaves and bondwomen!" exclaimed Evelyn. "You don't know what
a good time means. I must be off. Adieu, seneschals." And with a
pitying smile she left them.

She was a handsome, spirited-looking girl, with a queenly carriage. As
she went out of the house Constance Leigh came by, and the two walked
off together.

"There's a pair of them," Hilda remarked.

"Awfully nice girls," said Nannie.

"Oh, yes, but they're rabid. Constance Leigh is as independent as a
March hare, and Evelyn is perfectly fierce for reforms now."

"What, a socialist?" asked Prudence.

"No, not exactly, but she gathers the most awful class of people about
her, and fairly bristles with indignation if one ventures to criticise
them."

"What do you mean--criminals?" asked Prudence.

"You'd think so if you chanced to run into one of them. Why, last
Sunday evening she had an inebriate up to tea with her; next Sunday
she expects a wife-beater, or choker, or something of that sort, and
the other day, when I was coming out from a call on her, I met a
black-browed, desperately wicked-looking man--as big as a mountain. I
know he was a murderer or something. I never was so frightened in my
life. Why, I took to my heels and ran the length of the street. I
presume he was after me, but I didn't dare look behind."

"You needn't have worried, Hilda," said Prudence. "You know big men
never run after you."

It was a notorious fact that most of Hilda's admirers were about half
her size.

"Oh, yes. That holds good in society, but I don't know what might
obtain in criminal circles."

"Hilda, did your villain carry a cane and wear glasses?"

"I was too frightened to notice, but I believe he flourished a stout
stick of some sort, and I do remember a wicked gleam about his
eyes--might have been spectacles."

The girls burst out laughing.

"Why, it's Professor Thing-a-my-Bob, or Dry-as-Dust, or somebody or
other, from Washington. He's her _fiance_."

"Well, I don't care if he is," persisted Hilda. "He's a wicked-looking
villain."

"Oh!" screamed the girls, and then Prudence added, with mock
solemnity:

"Any one who could talk slightingly of a genuine college professor
would speak disrespectfully of the equator or be sassy to the
dictionary."

"I'd just enjoy telling the poor old proff what Hilda----" began
Nannie, but the persever