one of the other liverymen drove up with a carriage full of ladies,
and they emerged in a flutter of veils and silk skirts. Mrs. Slade,
who was really superb in her rose silk and black lace, with an artful
frill of white lace at her throat to match her great puff of white
hair, remained beside Mrs. Snyder, whose bow of mirth widened.

"Who is that magnificent creature?" whispered Mrs. Snyder with a gush
of enthusiasm, indicating Alice beside the window.

"She lives here," replied Mrs. Slade rather stupidly. She did not
quite know how to define Alice.

"Lives here in this little place? Not all the year?" rejoined Mrs.
Snyder.

"Fairbridge is a very good place to live in all the year," replied
Mrs. Slade rather stiffly. "It is near New York. We have all the
advantages of a great metropolis without the drawbacks. Fairbridge is
a most charming city, and very progressive, yes, very progressive."

Mrs. Slade took it rather hardly that Mrs. Snyder should intimate
anything prejudicial to Fairbridge and especially that it was not
good enough for Alice Mendon, who had been born there, and lived
there all her life except the year she had been in college. If
anything, she, Mrs. Slade, wondered if Alice Mendon were good enough
for Fairbridge. What had she ever done, except to wear handsome
costumes and look handsome and self-possessed? Although she belonged
to the Zenith Club, no power on earth could induce her to discharge
the duties connected herewith, except to pay her part of the
expenses, and open her house for a meeting. She simply would not