with a moving throng; the air was full of the odor of flowers, and
the sound of music and voices.

"Mrs. Cowperwood," observed Bradford Canda to Horton Biggers, the
society editor, "is one of the prettiest women I have seen in a
long time. She's almost too pretty."

"How do you think she's taking?" queried the cautious Biggers.
"Charming, but she's hardly cold enough, I'm afraid; hardly clever
enough. It takes a more serious type. She's a little too
high-spirited. These old women would never want to get near her;
she makes them look too old. She'd do better if she were not so
young and so pretty."

"That's what I think exactly," said Biggers. As a matter of fact,
he did not think so at all; he had no power of drawing any such
accurate conclusions. But he believed it now, because Bradford
Canda had said it.




Chapter XI



The Fruits of Daring

Next morning, over the breakfast cups at the Norrie Simmses' and
elsewhere, the import of the Cowperwoods' social efforts was