Edes had an inspiration. "The Fay-Wymans," said he (the
Fay-Wymans were the principal guests of their dinner party), "know a
lot of theatrical people. I will see if I can't get them to induce
somebody, say Lydia Greenway, to run out some day; I suppose it would
have to be later on, just after the season, and do a stunt at the
club."

"Oh, that would be simply charming," cried Margaret, "and I would
rather have it in the spring, because everything looks so much
prettier. But don't you think it will be impossible, Wilbur?"

"Not with money as an inducement." Wilbur had the pleasant
consciousness of an unusually large fee which was sure to be his own
before that future club meeting, and he could see no better
employment for it than to enable his adored wife to outshine Mrs.
George B. Slade. When in New York engaged in his profession, Wilbur
Edes was entirely free from the vortex of Fairbridge, but his wife,
with its terrible eddies still agitating her garments, could suck him
therein, even in the great city. He was very susceptible to her
influence.

Margaret Edes beamed at her husband as he rose. "That will make
Marion Slade furious," she said. She extended her feet. "Pretty
slippers, aren't they, Wilbur?"

"Charming, my dear."

Margaret was so pleased that she tried to do something very amiable.

"That was funny, I mean what you said about the Syrian girl at the
Dominie's," she volunteered, and laughed, without making a crease in
her fair little face. She was really adorable, far more than pretty,
leaning back with one slender, yellow-draped leg crossed over the
other, revealing the glittering slippers and one silken ankle.

"It does sound somewhat queer, a Syrian girl fainting in the
Dominie's house," said Wilbur. "She could not have found a house
where her sex, of any nationality, are in less repute."

"Then you don't think that Alice Mendon--?" There was a faint note
of jealousy in Margaret's voice, although she herself had not the
slightest interest in Dominie von Rosen or any man, except her
husband; and in him only because he was her husband. As the husband
of her wonderful self, he acquired a certain claim to respect, even
affection, such as she had to bestow.

"I don't think Alice Mendon would take up with the Dominie, if he
would with her," responded Wilbur Edes hastily. Margaret did not
understand his way of speaking, but just then she looked at herself
in an opposite mirror, and pulled down one s