I could have run up a flag for
relief and joy.

I kept those invitations stuck into the mirror of my dressing-table
as if they were badges of honor. Edith used to make a point of having
her luncheon and dinner guests take off their things in my room. I
knew it was because of the invitations stuck in the mirror, and I was
proud to be able to return something for all the money and effort she
had expended.

It appeared incumbent upon me as a kind of holy duty to prove myself a
remunerative investment. The long hours spent in the preparation of my
toilette; the money paid out for my folderols; the deceptions we had to
resort to for the sake of expediency; everything--schemes, plans and
devices--all appeared to me as simply necessary parts of a big and
difficult contest I had entered and must win. It never occurred to me
then that my efforts were unadmirable. When at the end of my first
season Edith and I discovered to our delight, when the Summer Colony
returned to our hills, that our names had become fixtures on their
exclusive list of invitations, I felt as much exaltation as any
runner who ever entered a Marathon and crossed the white tape among
the first six.

There! That's the kind of New England girl I am. I offer no excuses. I
lay no blame upon my sister-in-law. There are many New England girls
just like me who have the advantage of mothers--tender and solicitous
mothers too. But even mothers cannot keep their children from catching
measles if there's an epidemic--not unless they move away. The social
fever in my community was simply raging when I was sixteen, and of
course I caught it.

Even my education was governed by the demands of society. The
boarding-school I went to was selected because of its reputation for
wealth and exclusiveness. I practised two hours a day on the piano, had
my voice trained, and sat at the conversation-French table at school,
because Edith impressed upon me that such accomplishments would be found
convenient and convincing. I learned to swim and dive, play tennis and
golf, ride horseback, dance and skate, simply because if I was efficient
in sports I would prove popular at summer hotels, country clubs and
winter resorts. Edith and I attended symphony concerts in Boston every
Friday afternoon, and opera occasionally, not because of any special
passion for music, but to be able to converse intelligently at dinner
parties and teas.

It was not until I had been out two seasons that I