ry."

"No doubt," said Celia, sinking down upon a convenient seat. "I begin to
feel as if there were no protection for anything. And, Phil, that great
monster of a Mavick, who is eating up the country, isn't he a client
also?"

"Occasionally only. A man like Mavick has his own lawyers and judges."

"Did you ever see him?"

"Just glimpses."

"And that daughter of his, about whom such a fuss was made, I suppose
you never met her?"

"Oh, as I wrote you, at the opera; saw her in her box."

"And--?"

"Oh, she's rather a little thing; rather dark, I told you that; seems
devoted to music."

"And you didn't tell what she wore."

"Why, what they all wear. Something light and rather fluffy."

"Just like a man. Is she pretty?"

"Ye-e-s; has that effect. You'd notice her eyes." If Philip had been
frank he would have answered,

"I don't know. She's simply adorable," and Celia would have understood
all about it.

"And probably doesn't know anything. Yes, highly educated? I heard that.
But I'm getting tired of 'highly educated'; I see so many of them. I've
been making them now for years. Perhaps I'm one of them. And where am
I? Don't interrupt. I tell you it is a relief to come across a sweet,
womanly ignoramus. What church does she go to?"

"Who?"

"That Mavick girl."

"St. Thomas', I believe."

"That's good--that's devotional. I suppose you go there too, being
brought up a Congregationalist?"

"At vespers, sometimes. But, Celia, what is the matter with you? I
thought you didn't care--didn't care to belong to anything?"

"I? I belong to everything. Didn't I write you reams about my studies in
psychology? I've come to one conclusion. There are only two persons in
the world who stand on a solid foundation, the Roman Catholic and the
Agnostic. The Roman Catholic knows everything, the Agnostic doesn't know
anything."

Philip was never certain when the girl was bantering him; nor, when she
was in earnest, how long she would remain in that mind and mood. So he
ventured, humorously:

"The truth is, Celia, that you know too much to be either. You are what
they call emancipated."

"Emancipated!" And Celia sat up energetically, as if she were now really
interested in the conversation. "Become the slave of myself instead
of the slave of somebody else! That's the most hateful thing to be,
emancipated. I never knew a woman who said she was emancipated who
wasn't in some ridiculous folly or another. Now, Phil, I'm