“Shucks an’ shoestrings!” grunted the Major.  “What’s in this paper-shelled, painted, hollow thing ye call ‘society’ to interest three healthy, wide-awake girls?  Tell me that!”

“You don’t understand, dear,” said Patsy, soothing him with a kiss.

“I think he does,” remarked Beth, with meditative brows.  “Modern society is a man-made—­or woman-made—­condition, to a large extent artificial, selfish and unwholesome.”

“Oh, Beth!” protested Louise.  “You’re talking like a rank socialist.  I can understand common people sneering at society, which is so far out of their reach; but a girl about to be accepted in the best circles has no right to rail at her own caste.”

“There can be no caste in America,” declared Beth, stubbornly.

“But there is caste in America, and will be so long as the exclusiveness of society is recognized by the people at large,” continued Louise.  “If it is a ‘man-made condition’ isn’t it the most respected, most refined, most desirable condition that one may attain to?”

“There are plenty of honest and happy people in the world who ignore society altogether,” answered Beth.  “It strikes me that your social stars are mighty few in the broad firmament of humanity.”

“But they’re stars, for all that, dear,” said Uncle John, smiling at her with a hint of approval in his glance, yet picking up the argument; “and they look mighty big and bright to the crowd below.  It’s quite natural.  You can’t keep individuals from gaining distinction, even in America.  There are few generals in an army, for instance; and they’re ‘man-made’; but that’s no reason the generals ain’t entitled to our admiration.”

“Let’s admire ’em, then—­from a distance,” retorted the Major, realizing the military simile was employed to win his sympathy.

“Certain things, my dear Major, are naturally dear to a girl’s heart,” continued Uncle John, musingly; “and we who are not girls have no right to condemn their natural longings.  Girls love dancing, pink teas and fudge-parties, and where can they find ’em in all their perfection but in high society?  Girls love admiration and flirtations—­you do, my dears; you can’t deny it—­and the male society swells have the most time to devote to such things.  Girls love pretty dresses—­”

“Oh, Uncle! you’ve hit the nail on the head now,” exclaimed Patsy, laughing.  “We must all have new gowns for this reception, and as we’re to assist Miss Von Taer the dresses must harmonize, so to speak, and—­and—­” “And be quite suited to the occasion,” broke in Louise; “and—­”

“And wear our lives out with innumerable fittings,” concluded Beth, gloomily.

“But why new dresses?” demanded the Major.  “You’ve plenty of old ones that are clean and pretty, I’m sure; and our Patsy had one from the dressmaker only last week that’s fit for a queen.”

“Oh, Daddy! you don’t understand,” laughed Patsy.