Lucy broke into a laugh.  “I was at Mrs. Robbie Walling’s last night,” she said.  “She was talking about the crowds at the opera, and she said she was going to withdraw to some place where she wouldn’t have to see such mobs of ugly people.”

“Yes,” said he.  “But you can’t tell me anything about Mrs. Robbie Walling.  I have been there.  There’s nothing that lady does from the time she opens her eyes in the morning until the time she goes to bed the next morning that she would ever care to do if it were not for the mobs of ugly people looking on.”

—­“You seem to be going everywhere,” said Montague, after a pause.

“Oh, I guess I’m a success,” said Lucy.  “I am certainly having a gorgeous time.  I never saw so many beautiful houses or such dazzling costumes in my life.”

“It’s very fine,” said Montague.  “But take it slowly and make it last.  When one has got used to it, the life seems rather dull and grey.”

“I am invited to the Wymans’ to-night,” said Lucy,—­“to play bridge.  Fancy giving a bridge party on Sunday night!”

Montague shrugged his shoulders. “Cosi fan tutti,” he said.

“What do you make of Betty Wyman?” asked the other.

“She is having a good time,” said he.  “I don’t think she has much conscience about it.”

“Is she very much in love with Ollie?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he said.  “I can’t make them out.  It doesn’t seem to trouble them very much.”

This was after church while they were strolling down the Avenue, gazing at the procession of new spring costumes.—­“Who is that stately creature you just bowed to?” inquired Lucy.

“That?” said Montague.  “That is Miss Hegan—­Jim Hegan’s daughter.”

“Oh!” said Lucy.  “I remember—­Betty Wyman told me about her.”

“Nothing very good, I imagine,” said Montague, with a smile.

“It was interesting,” said Lucy.  “Fancy having a father with a hundred millions, and talking about going in for settlement work!”

“Well,” he answered, “I told you one could get tired of the splurge.”

Lucy looked at him quizzically.  “I should think that kind of a girl would rather appeal to you,” she said.

“I would like to know her very much,” said he, “but she didn’t seem to like me.”

“Not like you!” cried the other.  “Why, how perfectly outrageous!”

“It was not her fault,” said Montague, smiling; “I am afraid I got myself a bad reputation.”

“Oh, you mean about Mrs. Winnie!” exclaimed Lucy.

“Yes,” said he, “that’s it.”

“I wish you would tell me about it,” said she.

“There is nothing much to tell.  Mrs. Winnie proceeded to take me up and make a social success of me, and I was fool enough to come when she invited me.  Then the first thing I knew, all the gossips were wagging their tongues.”

“That didn’t do you any harm, did it?” asked Lucy.