his wife supping together like
lovers, so strong is the force of habit that makes this public life
necessary even when the domestic life is established. There is a man who
shot himself rather seriously on the doorsteps of the beauty who rejected
him, and in a year married the handsome and more wealthy woman who sits
opposite him in that convivial party. There is a Russian princess, a fair
woman with cool observant eyes, making herself agreeable to a mixed
company in three languages. In this brilliant light is it not wonderful
how dazzlingly beautiful the women are--brunettes in yellow and diamonds,
blondes in elaborately simple toilets, with only a bunch of roses for
ornament, in the flush of the midnight hour, in a radiant glow that even
the excitement and the lifted glass cannot heighten? That pretty girl
yonder--is she wife or widow?--slight and fresh and fair, they say has an
ambition to extend her notoriety by going upon the stage; the young lady
with her, who does not seem to fear a public place, may be helping her on
the road. The two young gentlemen, their attendants, have the air of
taking life more seriously than the girls, but regard with respectful
interest the mounting vivacity of their companions, which rises and
sparkles like the bubbles in the slender glasses which they raise to
their lips with the dainty grace of practice. The staid family parties
who are supping at adjoining tables notice this group with curiosity, and
express their opinion by elevated eyebrows.

Margaret leaned back in her chair and regarded the whole in a musing'
frame of mind. I think she apprehended nothing of it except the light,
the color, the beauty, the movement of gayety. For her the notes of the
orchestra sounded through it all--the voices of the singers, the hum of
the house; it was all a spectacle and a play. Why should she not enjoy
it? There was something in the nature of the girl that responded to this
form of pleasure--the legitimate pleasure the senses take in being
gratified. "It is so different," she said to me, "from the pleasure one
has in an evening by the fire. Do you know, even Mr. Morgan seems worldly
here."

It was a deeper matter than she thought, this about worldliness, which
had been raised in Margaret's mind. Have we all double natures, and do we
simply conform to whatever surrounds us? Is there any difference in kind
between the country worldliness and the city worldliness? I do not
suppose that Margaret