is before long."

The expansion of the horizon of the representative women of Clematis,
with the incidental uplift of the community, was immediately relegated
to the background of interest. "Leaving Clematis!" exclaimed a dozen
voices, the accent of shocked protest easily perceptible above mere
surprise and curiosity.

Mrs. Hornblower, in her evident enjoyment of the sensation of which she
was the center, was in no hurry to explain.

"We're thinking of selling the farm and investing in an apple orchard,"
she announced at length. "Robert's worked hard all his life, and we
think it's about time he began to take things easy. The comp'ny
undertakes to do all the work of taking care of the orchard and
marketing the fruit for a quarter of our net profits, and that'll leave
me and Robert free to travel 'round and enjoy ourselves. We're looking
over plans now for our villa."

Even Annabel Sinclair straightened herself suddenly, galvanized into
closer attention by that magic word.

"I've heard tell that there was lots of money in apples," exclaimed
Mrs. West. "But I didn't s'pose there was enough so that folks
wouldn't need to do any work to get it out."

"You see, people in general don't appreciate what science and system
can do," patronizingly explained Mrs. Hornblower. "If you'd read some
of the literature the Apple of Eden Investment Comp'ny sends us, it
would be an eye-opener."

"Ladies, ladies!" expostulated the chairman, "we are forgetting the
object of our meeting." Then temporarily setting aside her official
duties in favor of her responsibility as hostess, she hurried forward
to greet a new arrival. "So glad to see you, Mrs. Leveridge. But I'm
sorry you couldn't persuade young Mrs. Thompson to accompany you."

"She'd agreed to come," replied Mrs. Leveridge, loosening her
bonnet-strings and sighing. "But at the last minute she found it
wasn't possible."

The room rustled expectantly. There is always a chance that the reason
for a bride's regrets may be of interest.

"Nothing serious, I hope," said Mrs. West insinuatingly.

Mrs. Leveridge's sigh was provocative of further questions.

"Well, no, and then again, yes. It isn't anything like a death in the
family. But you don't have to live long to find out that death ain't
the worst thing."

"My goodness, Minerva," exclaimed Susan Fitzgerald, aghast. "What's
happened?"

Mrs. Leveridge's deliberative gaze swept the silently expectant company.