riage, with a solemn coachman and footman
to drive him.

Montague, deftly keeping the conversation upon the subject of pets,
learned that all this was quite common. Many women in Society
artificially made themselves barren, because of the inconvenience
incidental to pregnancy and motherhood; and instead they lavished their
affections upon cats and dogs. Some of these animals had elaborate
costumes, rivalling in expensiveness those of their step-mothers. They
wore tiny boots, which cost eight dollars a pair--house boots, and
street boots lacing up to the knees; they had house-coats,
walking-coats, dusters, sweaters, coats lined with ermine, and
automobile coats with head and chest-protectors and hoods and
goggles--and each coat fitted with a pocket for its tiny handkerchief
of fine linen or lace! And they had collars set with rubies and pearls
and diamonds--one had a collar that cost ten thousand dollars!
Sometimes there would be a coat to match every gown of the owner. There
were dog nurseries and resting-rooms, in which they might be left
temporarily; and manicure parlours for cats, with a physician in
charge. When these pets died, there was an expensive cemetery in
Brooklyn especially for their interment; and they would be duly
embalmed and buried in plush-lined casket, and would have costly marble
monuments. When one of Mrs. Smythe's best loved pugs had fallen ill of
congestion of the liver, she had had tan-bark put upon the street in
front of her house; and when in spite of this the dog died, she had
sent out cards edged in black, inviting her friends to a "memorial
service." Also she showed Montague a number of books with very costly
bindings, in which were demonstrated the unity, simplicity, and
immortality of the souls of cats and dogs.

Apparently the sentimental Mrs. Smythe was willing to talk about these
pets all through dinner; and so was her aunt, a thin and angular
spinster, who sat on Montague's other side. And he was willing to
listen--he wanted to know it all. There were umbrellas for dogs, to be
fastened over their backs in wet weather; there were manicure and
toilet sets, and silver medicine-chests, and jewel-studded whips. There
were sets of engraved visiting-cards; there were wheel-chairs in which
invalid cats and dogs might be taken for an airing. There were shows
for cats and dogs, with pedigrees and prizes, and nearly as great
crowds as the Horse Show; Mrs. Smythe's St. Bernards were worth seven