had a queer weariness from always seeing herself and her own ideas in
them instead of their own. And she was not in the least dictatorial.
She would have preferred open, antagonistic originality, but she got
a surfeit of clear, mirror-like peace.

She was quite sure that they would quote her opinion of Annie
Eustace's paper, but that did not please her. Later on she spoke to
Annie herself about it. "Haven't you something else written that you
can show me?" She had even suggested the possibility, the
desirability, of Annie's taking up a literary career, but she had
found the girl very evasive, even secretive, and had never broached
the subject again.

As for Margaret Edes, she had never fairly listened to anything which
anybody except herself had written, unless it had afforded matter for
discussion, and the display of her own brilliancy. Annie's
productions were so modestly conclusive as to apparently afford no
standing ground for argument. In her heart, Margaret regarded them as
she regarded Annie's personality, with a contempt so indifferent that
it was hardly contempt.

She proceeded exactly as if Annie had not made such a fervent
disclaimer. "The Zenith Club is the one and only thing which lifts
Fairbridge, and the women of Fairbridge, above the common herd," said
she majestically.

"Don't I know it? Oh, Margaret, don't I know it," cried the other
with such feverish energy that Margaret regarded her wonderingly. For
all her exploiting of the Zenith Club of Fairbridge, she herself,
unless she were the main figure at the helm, could realise nothing in