Montague was dumb; he could think of nothing to say.

"It's too bad," said Mrs. Billy. "She is really a charming creature.
And it will hurt her, you know--she is a stranger, and it's a trifle
too sudden. Is that the Mississippi way?"

Montague forced himself to say, "Lucy is her own mistress." But his
feeble impulse toward conversation was checked by Mrs. Billy's
prompt response, "Vivie said she was Stanley Ryder's."

"I understand how you feel," continued the great lady, after a
pause. "Everybody will be talking about it.--Your friend Reggie Mann
heard what Vivie said, and he will see to that."

"Reggie Mann is no friend of mine," said Montague, abruptly.

There was a pause. "How in the world do you stand that man?" he
asked, by way of changing the conversation.

"Oh, Reggie fills his place," was the reply. And Mrs. Billy gazed
about the room. "You see all these women?" she said. "Take them in
the morning and put half a dozen of them together in one room; they
all hate each other like poison, and there are no men around, and
there is nothing to do; and how are you to keep them from
quarrelling?"

"Is that Reggie's role?" asked the other.

"Precisely. He sees a spark fly, and he jumps up and cracks a joke.
It doesn't make any difference what he does--I've known him to crow