ers' suppers, in these days. And one wouldn't mind, if it left
time for home life, and reading, and family intercourse, but it
doesn't. We don't know what our children are studying, what they're
thinking about, or what life means to them at all, because we are too
busy answering the telephone, and planning clothes, and writing formal
notes, and going to places we feel we ought to be seen in. I'm having
more fun than I had in years, helping our children plan some abridged
plays from Shakespeare, with the Burgoyne girls, for this winter, and
I'm perfectly astonished, even though I'm their mother, at their
enjoyment of it, and at my own. Mr. Carew himself, who NEVER takes much
interest in that sort of thing, asked me why they couldn't give them
for the Old Paloma Girls' Club, if they get a club room. I didn't know
he even knew anything about our club plans. I said, 'George, are you
willing to have Jeannette get interested in that crowd?' and he said,
'Finest thing in the world for her!' and I don't know," finished Mrs.
Carew, thoughtfully, "but what he's right."

"I'm all for it," said breezy Mrs. Lloyd, "I don't imagine I'd be any
good at actually talking to them, but I would go to the dances, and
introduce people, and trot partners up to the wallflowers--"

There was more laughter, and then Mrs. Adams said briskly:

"Well, let's take an informal vote!"

"I don't think that's necessary, Sue," said Mrs. White, generously, "I
think I am the only one of us who believes in preserving the tradition
of the dear old club, and I must bow to the majority, of course.
Perhaps it will be a little hard to see strangers there; our pretty
floors ruined, and our pretty walls spotted, but--" an eloquent shrug,
and a gesture of her pretty hands finished the sentence with the words,
"isn't that the law?"

And upon whole-hearted applause for Mrs. White, Mrs. Carew tactfully
introduced the subject of tea.

They were all chatting amicably enough in the dining-room a few minutes
later when George Carew and Barry Valentine came in. Barry, who seemed
excited, exhilarated and tired, had come to borrow a typewriter from
the Carews. He responded to sympathetic inquiries, that he had been
working like a madman since noon, and that there would be an issue of
the Mail ready for them in the morning. He said, "everyone had been
simply corking about everything," and it began to look like smooth
sailing now. In the few minutes that he waited for youn