ight, she leaned forward a little, straining
to catch every syllable. As a rule when gossip or criticism was talked
in her hearing, it was insured against being understood by the use of
strange terms, spellings, winks, nods, shrugs, or sudden stops at the
most important point. But now, with herself hidden, was there not a
likelihood of plain speech?

It came.

The voice went on: "This is the first time you've met the mother, isn't
it?"

"I think so,"--indifferently. "Who is she, anyhow?"

"_No_body."

Gwendolyn stared.

"Nobody at all--_absolutely_. You know, they say--" She paused for
emphasis.

Now, Gwendolyn's eyes grew suddenly round; her lips parted in surprise.
_They_ again!

"Yes?" encouraged Louise.

Lower--"They say she was just an ordinary country girl, pretty, and
horribly poor, with a fair education, but no culture to speak of. She
met him; he had money and fell in love with her; she married him. And,
oh, _then!_" She chuckled.

"Made the money fly?"

The two were coming to settle themselves in chairs close to the side
window.

"Not exactly. Haven't you heard what's the matter with her?"

Gwendolyn's face paled a little. There was something the matter with her
mother?--her dear, beautiful, young mother! The clasped hands were
pressed to her breast.

"Ambitious?" hazarded Louise, confidently.

"It's no secret. Everybody's laughing at her,--at the rebuffs she takes;
the money she gives to charity (wedges, you understand); the quantities
of dresses she buys; the way she slaps on the jewels. She's got the
society bee in her bonnet!"

Gwendolyn caught her breath. _The society bee in her bonnet?_

"Ah!" breathed Louise, as if comprehending. Then, "Dear! dear!"

"She _talks_ nothing else. She _hears_ nothing else. She _sees_ nothing
else."

"Bad as that?"

"Goes wherever she can shove in--subscription lectures and musicales,
hospital teas, Christmas bazars. And she benches her Poms; has boxes at
the Horse Show and the Opera; gives gold-plate dinners, and Heaven knows
what!"

"Ha! ha! _You_ haven't boosted her, dear?"

"Not a bit of it! Make a point of never being seen _any_where with
her."

"And he?"

Gwendolyn swallowed. _He_ was her father.

"Well, it has kept the poor fellow in harness all the time, of course.
You should have seen him when he _first_ came to town--straight and
boyish, and _very_ handsome. (You know the type.) He's changed! Burns
his candles at both ends."