of the table Paul Filey had begun to describe the new one-man
show of caricatures of famous people just opened in Bond Street. The
'mordant genius,' as he called it, of this new man--an American
Jew--offered an irresistible opportunity for phrase-making. And still on
the other side of the tea urn the Ullands were discussing with
Borrodaile and Miss Levering the absent lady whose 'case' was obviously
a matter of concern to her friends.

'Well, let us hope,' Lord John was saying as sternly as his urbanity
permitted--'let us hope this exhibition in the House will be a lesson to
her.'

'_She_ wasn't concerned in it!' Vida quickly defended her.

'Nevertheless we are all hoping,' said Lady John, 'that it has come just
in time to prevent her from going over the edge.'

'Over the edge!' Farnborough pricked up his ears at last in good
earnest, feeling that the conversation on the other side had grown too
interesting for him to be out of it any longer. 'Over what edge?'

'The edge of the Woman Suffrage precipice,' said Lady John.

'You call it a precipice?' Vida Levering raised her dark brows in a
little smile.

'Don't you?' demanded her hostess.

'I should say mud-puddle.'

'From the point of view of the artist'--Paul Filey had begun laying down
some new law, but turning an abrupt corner, he followed the wandering
attention of his audience--'from the point of view of the artist,' he
repeated, 'it would be interesting to know what the phenomenon is, that
Lady John took for a precipice and that Miss Levering says is a
mud-puddle.'

'Oh,' said Lord John, thinking it well to generalize and spare Mrs.
Freddy further rending, 'we've been talking about this public
demonstration of the unfitness of women for public affairs.'

'Give me some more toast dice!' Sophia said to Farnborough. 'You haven't
seen Joey's new accomplishment. They're only discussing that idiotic
scene the women made the other night.'

'Oh, in the gallery of the House of Commons?'

'Yes, wasn't it disgustin'?' said Paul Filey, facing about suddenly with
an air of cheerful surprise at having at last hit on something that he
and Lady Sophia could heartily agree about.

'Perfectly revolting!' said Hermione Heriot, not to be out of it. For it
is well known that, next to a great enthusiasm shared, nothing so draws
human creatures together as a good bout of cursing in common. So with
emphasis Miss Heriot repeated, 'Perfectly revolting!'

Her reward was t