her hat. Flossie always took off her hat when she meant to be
unpleasant. It was her way of pulling up her sleeves. They had their
tea first. They seemed both agreed that that would be best. And then
Flossie pushed back her chair and sat up.

She had just the head mistress expression. Joan wasn't quite sure she
oughtn't to stand. But, controlling the instinct, leant back in her
chair, and tried to look defiant without feeling it.

"How far are you going?" demanded Flossie.

Joan was not in a comprehending mood.

"If you're going the whole hog, that's something I can understand,"
continued Flossie. "If not, you'd better pull up."

"What do you mean by the whole hog?" requested Joan, assuming dignity.

"Oh, don't come the kid," advised Flossie. "If you don't mind being
talked about yourself, you might think of him. If Carleton gets hold of
it, he's done for."

"'A little bird whispers to me that Robert Phillips was seen walking
across Richmond Park the other afternoon in company with Miss Joan
Allway, formerly one of our contributors.' Is that going to end his
political career?" retorted Joan with fine sarcasm.

Flossie fixed a relentless eye upon her. "He'll wait till the bird has
got a bit more than that to whisper to him," she suggested.

"There'll be nothing more," explained Joan. "So long as my friendship is
of any assistance to Robert Phillips in his work, he's going to have it.
What use are we going to be in politics--what's all the fuss about, if
men and women mustn't work together for their common aims and help one
another?"

"Why can't you help him in his own house, instead of wandering all about
the country?" Flossie wanted to know.

"So I do," Joan defended herself. "I'm in and out there till I'm sick of
the hideous place. You haven't seen the inside. And his wife knows all
about it, and is only too glad."

"Does she know about Richmond Park--and the other places?" asked Flossie.

"She wouldn't mind if she did," explained Joan. "And you know what she's
like! How can one think what one's saying with that silly, goggle-eyed
face in front of one always."

Flossie, since she had become engaged, had acquired quite a matronly
train of thought. She spoke kindly, with a little grave shake of her
head. "My dear," she said, "the wife is always in the way. You'd feel
just the same whatever her face was like."

Joan grew angry. "If you choose to suspect evil, of course you can," she