d
the barons of beef are still uneasy. Even their pretty women, after
going to the best hair-dressers and patronizing the best charities,
sometimes get scared lest somebody think they haven't either brains or
breeding.

"So they're nasty to all low pussons like you and me, to make sure we
understand how important they are. But lands, I know 'em, boy. I'm kept
pensioned up here, out of the way, but I read the social notes in the
papers and I chuckle---- When there's a big reception and I read about
Mrs. Vogeland's pearls, and her beautiful daughter-in-law, I remember
how she used to run a boarding-house for miners----

"Well, I guess it's just as shoddy in the East if you go far enough
back. Claire, you're a nice comforting body, and I hate to say it, but
the truth is, your great-grandfather was an hostler, and made his first
money betting on horses. Now, my, I oughtn't to tell that. Do you mind,
dearie?"

"Not a bit. Isn't it delightful that this is such a democratic country,
with no castes," said Claire.

At this, the first break in the little old lady's undammable flood, Mrs.
Gilson sprang up, yammering, "The rest of you may stay as long as you
like, but if I'm to be home in time to dress for dinner----"

"Yes, and I must be going," babbled Saxton.

Milt noted that his lower lip showed white tooth-marks.

It must be admitted that all of them rather ignored the little old lady
for a moment. Milt was apologetically hinting, "I don't really think
Bill and I'd better come to dinner this evening, Mrs. Gilson. Thanks a
lot but---- It's kind of sudden."

Claire again took charge. "Not at all, Milt. Of course you're coming. It
was Eva herself who invited you. I'm sure she'll be delighted."

"Charmed," said Mrs. Gilson, with the expression of one who has
swallowed castor oil and doubts the unity of the universe.

There was a lack of ease about the farewells to Aunt Harriet. As they
all turned away she beckoned Milt and murmured, "Did I raise the
dickens? I tried to. It's the only solace besides smoking that a moral
old lady can allow herself, after she gets to be eighty-two and begins
to doubt everything they used to teach her. Come and see me, boy. Now
get out, and, boy, beat up Gene Gilson. Don't be scared of his wife's
hoity-toity ways. Just sail in."

"I will," said Milt.

He had one more surprise before he reached the limousine.

Bill McGolwey, who had sat listening to everything and scratching his
cheek