"Huh! Is the conspiracy all cut-an'-dried?" growled the Major.

Uncle John woke up with a final snort, removed the newspaper from his
face and sat up. He smiled benignantly upon his nieces.

"It's all your fault, sor!" declared Major Doyle, selecting the little
millionaire as the safest recipient of his displeasure. "Your
foolishness has involved us all in this dreadful complication. Why on
earth couldn't you leave well-enough alone?"

Uncle John received the broadside with tolerant equanimity.

"What's wrong; my dears?" he enquired, directing his mild glance toward
the bevy of young girls.

"I am unaware that anything is wrong, Uncle," replied Louise gravely.
"But since we are about to make our debut in society it is natural we
should have many things to discuss that would prove quite uninteresting
to men. Really, Uncle John, this is a great event--perhaps the most
important event of our lives."

"Shucks an' shoestrings!" grunted the Major. "What's in this
paper-shelled, painted, hollow thing ye call 'society' to interest three
healthy, wide-awake girls? Tell me that!"

"You don't understand, dear," said Patsy, soothing him with a kiss.

"I think he does," remarked Beth, with meditative brows. "Modern society
is a man-made--or woman-made--condition, to a large extent artificial,