"Then," I said, "having no poor to invite to dinner we must necessarily
try the rich. That's logical, isn't it?"

"Who?" asked Harriet, which is just like a woman. Whenever you get a
good healthy argument started with her, she will suddenly short-circuit
it, and want to know if you mean Mr. Smith, or Joe Perkins's boys, which
I maintain is _not_ logical.

"Well, there are the Starkweathers," I said.

"David!"

"They're rich, aren't they?"

"Yes, but you know how they live--what dinners they have--and besides,
they probably have a houseful of company."

"Weren't you telling me the other day how many people who were really
suffering were too proud to let anyone know about it? Weren't you
advising the necessity of getting acquainted with people and finding
out--tactfully, of course--you made a point of tact--what the trouble
was?"

"But I was talking of _poor_ people."

"Why shouldn't a rule that is good for poor people be equally as good
for rich people? Aren't they proud?"

"Oh, you can argue," observed Harriet.