likes to be called girl--audaciously as Phoebe did it. "Let's leave it
all to the men. I think we can trust them to compel the judge to dine off
his yesterday's remarks in tomorrow's papers. And then if we don't like
the way they have settled with him we can have a gorgeous time telling
them how much better they might have done it. Let's all play--everybody
for the game!"

"And Phoebe!" called Mrs. Payt as she sat down at the table farthest in
the corner. She spoke in a clear high-pitched voice that carried well
over the rustle of settling gowns and shuffling cards: "We all intend
after this to _see_ that David Kildare gets what he wants--you
understand?" A laugh rippled from every table but Phoebe was equal to the
occasion.

"Why not, Mrs. Payt," she answered with the utmost cordiality. "And let's
be sure and find something he really wants to present to him as a
testimony of our esteem."

"Oh, Phoebe," trilled Polly, her emotions getting the better of her as
she stood with score-card in hand waiting for the game to begin, "_I_
can't keep from loving him myself and _you_ treat him so mean!"

But a gale of merriment interrupted her outburst and a flutter of cards
on the felts marked the first rounds of the hands. In a few minutes they
were as absorbed as if nothing had happened to ruffle the depths; but in
the pool of every woman's nature the deepest spot shelters the lost
causes of life, and from it wells a tidal wave if stirred.

After a little while Caroline Darrah rose from a dummy and spoke in a low
pleading tone to Polly, who had been watching her game, standing ready to