you know, and I'm not sure it ain't worse than the
music. Some of 'em have long hair, and they start an argument with the
soup, and don't notice when things are handed to them. The consequence is
the dinner gets cold, and I have dyspepsia. That silly ass Silverton
brings them to the house--he writes poetry, you know, and Bertha and he
are getting tremendously thick. She could write better than any of 'em if
she chose, and I don't blame her for wanting clever fellows about; all I
say is: 'Don't let me see 'em eat!'"

The gist of this strange communication gave Lily a distinct thrill of
pleasure. Under ordinary circumstances, there would have been nothing
surprising in an invitation from Bertha Dorset; but since the Bellomont
episode an unavowed hostility had kept the two women apart. Now, with a
start of inner wonder, Lily felt that her thirst for retaliation had died
out. IF YOU WOULD FORGIVE YOUR ENEMY, says the Malay proverb, FIRST
INFLICT A HURT ON HIM; and Lily was experiencing the truth of the
apothegm. If she had destroyed Mrs. Dorset's letters, she might have
continued to hate her; but the fact that they remained in her possession
had fed her resentment to satiety.

She uttered a smiling acceptance, hailing in the renewal of the tie an
escape from Trenor's importunities.

Chapter 11

Meanwhile the holidays had gone by and the season was beginning. Fifth
Avenue had become a nightly torrent of carriages surging upward to the
fashionable quarters about the Park, where illuminated windows and
outspread awnings betokened the usual routine of hospitality. Other
tributary currents crossed the mainstream, bearing their freight to the
theatres, restaurants or opera; and Mrs. Peniston, from the secluded
watch-tower of her upper window, could tell to a nicety just when the
chronic volume of sound was increased by the sudden influx setting toward
a Van Osburgh ball, or when the multiplication of wheels meant merely
that the opera was over, or that there was a big supper at Sherry's.

Mrs. Peniston followed the rise and culmination of the season as keenly
as the most active sharer in its gaieties; and, as a looker-on, she
enjoyed opportunities of comparison and generalization such as those who
take part must proverbially forego. No one could have kept a more
accurate record of social fluctuations, or have put a more unerring
finger on the distinguishing features of each season: its dulness, its
extravagance, its l