“Nonie goes to riding academy.”

“So shall you.”

“It’s six dollars an hour.”

“I don’t care.”

“Her father’s retired except for being director in banks.  And, momie—­they don’t mind, dear—­about us.  Nonie knows that my—­father is—­is separated and never lived at home with us.  She’s broad-minded.  She says just so there’s no scandal, a divorce, or anything like that.  She said it’s vulgar to cultivate only rich friends.  She says she’d go with me even if she’s forbidden to.”

“Why, Marcy darling, why should she be forbidden?”

“Oh, Nonie’s broadminded.  She says if two people are unsuited they should separate, quietly, like you and my father.  She knows we’re one of the first old Southern families on my father’s side.  I—­I’m not trying to make you talk about it, dear, but—­but we are—­aren’t we?”

“Yes, Marcy.”

“He—­he was just—­irresponsible.  That’s not being—­not nice people, is it?”

“No, Marcy.”

“Nonie’s not forbidden.  She just meant in case, momie.  You see, with some old families like hers—­the stage—­but Nonie says her father couldn’t even say anything to that if he wanted to.  His own sister went on the stage once, and they had to hush it up in the papers.”

“Did you explain to her, Marcy, that stage life at its best can be full of fine ideals and truth?  Did you make her see how regular your own little life has been?  How little you know about—­my work?  How away I’ve kept you?  How I won’t even play out-of-town engagements so we can always be together in our little home?  You must explain all those things to your friends at Miss Harperly’s.  It helps—­with steady people.”

“I have, momie, and she’s going to bring me home every afternoon in their automobile after we’ve called for her brother Archie at Columbia Law School.”

“Marcy! the Grosbeck automobile bringing you home every day!”

“And it’s going to call for me the night of the party.  Nonie’s getting a lemon taffeta.”

“I’ll get you ivory, with a bit of real lace!”

“Oh, momie, momie, I can scarcely wait!”

“What did she say, Marcy, when she asked—­invited you?”

“She?”

“Nonie.”

“Why—­she—­didn’t invite me, momie.”

“But you just said—­”

“It was her brother Archie invited me.  We called for him at Columbia Law
School, you see.  It was he invited me.  Of course Nonie wants me and said
‘Yes’ right after him—­but it’s he—­who wants Nonie and me to be chums. 
I—­He—­I thought—­I—­told—­you—­momie.”

Suddenly Marcia’s eyes, almost with the perpendicular slits of her kitten’s in them, seemed to swish together like portieres, shutting Hattie behind them with her.

“Oh—­my Marcy!” said Hattie, dimly, after a while, as if from their depths.  “Marcy, dearest!”

“At—­at Harperly’s, momie, almost all the popular upper-class girls wear—­a—­a boy’s fraternity pin.”