previous afternoon. A progressive euchre party; and the remembrance of
what she had there endured now filled her soul with horror.

She thought of those hundred cackling women--of course women are never
cackling, it was Melicent's exaggerated way of expressing
herself--packed into those small overheated rooms, around those
twenty-five little tables; and how by no chance had she once found
herself with a congenial set. And how that Mrs. Van Wycke had cheated!
It was plain to Melicent that she had taken advantage of having fat
Miss Bloomdale for a partner, who went to euchre parties only to show
her hands and rings. And little Mrs. Brinke playing against her.
Little Mrs. Brinke! A woman who only the other day had read an
original paper entitled: "An Hour with Hegel" before her philosophy
class; who had published that dry mystical affair "Light on the
Inscrutable in Dante." How could such a one by any possibility be
supposed to observe the disgusting action of Mrs. Van Wycke in
throwing off on her partner's trump and swooping down on the last
trick with her right bower? Melicent would have thought it beneath her
to more than look her contempt as Mrs. Van Wycke rose with a
triumphant laugh to take her place at a higher table, dragging the
plastic Bloomdale with her. But she did mutter to herself now, "nasty
thief."

"Johannah," Melicent called to her maid who sat sewing in the next
room.

"Yes, Miss."

"You know Mrs. Van Wycke?"

"Mrs. Van Wycke, Miss? the lady with the pinted nose that I caught
a-feeling of the curtains?"

"Yes, when she calls again I'm not at home. Do you understand? not at
home."

"Yes, Miss."

It was gratifying enough to have thus summarily disposed of Mrs. Van
Wycke; but it was a source of entertainment which was soon ended.
Melicent continued to turn over the pages of her visiting book during
which employment she came to the conclusion that these people whom she
frequented were all very tiresome. All, all of them, except Miss Drake
who had been absent in Europe for the past six months. Perhaps Mrs.
Manning too, who was so seldom at home when Melicent called. Who when
at home, usually rushed down with her bonnet on, breathless with "I
can only spare you a moment, dear. It's very sweet of you to come."
She was always just going to the "Home" where things had got into such
a muddle whilst she was away for a week. Or it was that "Hospital"
meeting where she thought certain members were secret