e Works--saying horrid things about conditions
being unhealthy there, or anything of that sort?"

"Why, yes, dear, I have," said Mats at once, and sweetly. "Not very
lately, though. I think there was an article in the paper about it,
wasn't there, a month or two ago? Why?"

"What have you heard people say?" replied Carlisle.

"Well, I can't remember exactly, Cally, but it seems to me I heard them
say the Government was going to have a new law about it, or
something. Why?"

This last was a popular word with Mattie, whose mind in relation to her
own sex was distinctly interrogatory. All evening, mostly by indirect
methods, she had been examining Carlisle in regard to Mr. Canning, and
his strange visit....

"Oh, nothing," said Carlisle, gently patting her face with a steaming
cloth.

Mattie selected a hairbrush from her little spend-the-night kit.

"You know what perfect _nuts_ it is to people," said she, "to think they
have anything the least bit disagreeable on people they know."

"Isn't it?" replied Carlisle, with a repressed note of strong
irritation. "Everybody has plenty of time to attend to everybody's
business but their own."

Mattie glanced at her, wondering interestedly what had happened to
Cally. However, she made no answer to the philosophic sarcasm, being now
engaged in giving her hair one hundred and twenty-five brisk strokes
before retiring, and not wishing to lose the count.

Half an hour the girls had been in the flowing negligee stage, but they
were still intensely busy with the Eleusinian mysteries.

After an interval Carlisle said: "I wonder how many of the people who
criticize would put Turkish baths and--and dens in the Works if they had
to do it out of their own pockets.... Why under the _sun_ should they?"

"Of course," said Mattie. "(Eighteen, nineteen, twenty.)--I think you're
perfectly right, dear...."

"If people don't like the Works as they are, why should they raise
heaven and earth begging for jobs there? I wish somebody'd
explain that."

"Of course. (Twenty-five.)--And how could Mr. Heth spend thousands and
thousands of dollars on such things without taking it _right out of your
mouth_, don't you see?... Oh, _gosh_!"

"What?"

"Broke my best finger-nail--that's all! Just the tiniest rap on the
chair. Where's the file, dear? Oh, Cally, remember, twenty-five.... How
provoking!--I do think I've got the brittlest I ever saw ..."

Presently Carlisle, in a flowing silken robe