LITMIR.BIZ

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is not a rich man, but he’s very exclusive. He told me so himself.”

      “Don’t you believe it!” and Clementine laughed merrily. “As a rule, people who say themselves that they’re exclusive, are not. And one glance at that man is enough to show his standing.”

      “What is his standing, then?” said Mona, sulkily.

      “Outside the pale of society, if not outside the pale of civilisation,” retorted Clementine, who was plain-spoken.

      “Don’t let’s talk about Mr. Lansing now,” broke in Patty, who feared an unpleasant element in their pleasant occasion. “And, anyway, here comes Elise.”

      CHAPTER V

      HAPPY GUESTS

      Elise came in, bringing her guest with her. The three girls waiting in the sitting-room were surprised to see the small, dainty person whom Elise introduced as Miss Anna Gorman. She had a sweet, sad little face, and wore a simple one-piece gown of dove-grey voile. Her hat was grey, also; a turban shape, with a small knot of pink roses at one side. Anna was not pretty, but she had a refined air, and a gentle manner. Though embarrassed, she strove not to show it, and tried to appear at ease.

      Mona greeted her cordially: “How do you do, Anna?” she said, for they had agreed to call the girls informally, by their Christian names. “I am glad to see you. Come with me into the boudoir, and lay off your coat.” Mona herself assisted, for she thought it better not to have her maid about.

      “I’m well, thank you,” said Anna, in response to Mona’s inquiry, and then she broke out, impulsively: “Oh, I’m so happy to be here! It was so heavenly kind of you young ladies to ask me. You don’t know what it means to me!”

      “Why, I’m very glad,” said Mona, touched at the girl’s gratitude. “Now, I hope you’ll just have the time of your life!”

      “Oh, I shall, indeed! I know it. I’m enjoying every minute, just being in these lovely rooms, and seeing you kind ladies.”

      Then Mona’s manicure girl came. Her name was Celeste Arleson, and she was a tall, slender young woman, garbed all in black. It was the gown she always wore at her work, and, being of French descent, she had an air of charm that made her attractive.

      “Good-morning, Celeste; come right in,” said Mona, and then she introduced her to Anna.

      The two looked at each other a little shyly, and then Anna said, “Good-morning,” in a timid way.

      Mona felt embarrassed, too, and began to wonder if their party would be a failure, after all.

      But Patty came in then and, with her ever-ready tact, took the two visitors to the drawing-room, and began to show them some pictures and curios.

      Then Jenny Bisbee came, the girl from the ribbon counter, whom Clementine had invited.

      “My, isn’t this fine!” she exclaimed, as she met the others. “I just do think it’s fine!”

      “I’m glad we could arrange for you to come,” said Clementine, cordially.

      “Glad! My gracious, I guess I’m glad! Well! if you measured ribbon from morning till night, I guess you’d be glad to get away from it for once. Why, I measure ribbon in my dreams, from night till morning. I can’t seem to get away from that everlasting stretching out of thirty-six inches, over and over again.”

      “But the ribbons are so pretty,” said Clementine, by way of being agreeable.

      “Yes; when they first come in. But after a few weeks you get so tired of the patterns. My, I feel as if I could throw that Dresden sash ribbon on the floor and stamp on it, I’m so tired of seeing it! And there’s one piece of gay brocade that hits me in the eye every morning. I can’t stand that piece much longer.”

      “I’ll come round some day, and buy it,” said Patty, laughing good-naturedly. “I didn’t know the ribbons were so individual to you.”

      “Yes, they are. There’s one piece of light blue satin ribbon, plain and wide, that I just love. It’s a real comfort to me.”

      Jenny gave a little sigh, as she thought of her favourite ribbon, and Patty looked at her in wonderment, that she should be so sensitive to colour and texture. But her taste in colours did not seem to extend to her clothes. Jenny was a pale little thing, with ashy blonde hair, and large, light blue eyes. She wore a nondescript tan-coloured dress, without tone or shape; and she had a weary, exhausted air, as if chronically tired.

      Conversation was a little difficult. The four hostesses tried their best to be entertaining without being patronising, but it was not an easy task. At least, their advances were not easily received, and the guests seemed to be on the alert to resent anything that savoured of patronage. But help came from an unexpected quarter. Just at one o’clock Mrs. Greene arrived.

      “My land!” she exclaimed, as she entered the room, “if this isn’t grand! I wouldn’t of missed it for a farm! You see, I waited out on the corner, till it was just one o’clock. I know enough to get to a party just on the minute. My bringin’ up was good, if I have fell off a little since. But my folks was always awful particular people,—wouldn’t even take their pie in their hands. My husband, now, he was different. He wasn’t a fool, nor he wasn’t much else. But I only had him a year, and then he up and got killed in a rolling mill. Nice man, John, but not very forth-putting. So I’ve shifted for myself ever since. Not that I’ve done so awful well. I’m slow, I am. I never was one o’ those to sew with a hot needle and a scorching thread, but I do my stent right along. But, my! how I do rattle on! You might think I don’t often go in good society. Well, I don’t! So I must make the most of this chance.”

      Mrs. Greene’s chatter had been broken in upon by introductions and greetings, but that bothered her not at all. She nodded her head affably at the different ones, but kept right on talking.

      So Mona was fairly obliged to interrupt her.

      “Now, let us go out to luncheon,” she said, after the maid had announced it twice.

      “Glad to,” said Mrs. Greene. “Oh, my land! what a pretty sight!”

      She stood stock still in the doorway, and had to be urged forward, in order that the others might follow.

      “Well, I didn’t know a table could look so handsome!” she went on. “My land! I s’pose it’s been thirty years since I’ve went to a real party feast, and then, I can tell you, it wasn’t much like this!”

      Probably not, for Mona’s table, with the coloured electric lights blazing from the pretty Christmas tree, the soft radiance of the room, the fragrance of flowers, the exquisite table appointments, and the pretty, kindly hostesses, was a scene well worthy of praise.

      Anna Gorman trembled a little as she took her seat, and sat, wide-eyed, looking almost as if in a trance of delight. Celeste Arleson was less embarrassed, as her profession took her into fine mansions and in presence of fashionable people every day.

      Jenny Bisbee looked rapturous. “Oh,” she said, “Oh! I am so happy!”

      The guests all looked a trifle awestruck when the first course appeared, of grapefruit, served in tall, slender ice-glasses, each with a red ribbon tied round its stem, and a sprig of holly in the bow.

      “Well, did you ever!” exclaimed Mrs. Greene. “And is this the way they do things now? Well, well! It does look ’most too good to eat, but I’m ready to tackle it.”

      Anna Gorman looked a little pained, as if this homely enthusiasm jarred upon her sense of fitness. But Mona said hospitably, “Yes, indeed, Mrs. Greene,—it’s here to be eaten.”

      “Now, I’m free to confess, I don’t know what spoon to take,” Mrs. Greene acknowledged, looking blankly at the row of flat silver before her.

      “I know,” spoke up Jenny Bisbee, eagerly; “I read it in a Sunday paper. You begin at the outside of the row, and eat in!”

      “Land! are you sure to come out right, that way? S’pose

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