“And there are other old families like the Vertreeses,” she went on, not heeding him; “the Lamhorns and the Kittersbys and the J. Palmerston Smiths—­”

“Strange names to me,” he interrupted.  “Poor things!  None of them have my acquaintance.”

“No, that’s just it!” she cried.  “And papa had never even heard the name of Vertrees!  Mrs. Vertrees went with some anti-smoke committee to see him, and he told her that smoke was what made her husband bring home his wages from the pay-roll on Saturday night!  He told us about it, and I thought I just couldn’t live through the night, I was so ashamed!  Mr. Vertrees has always lived on his income, and papa didn’t know him, of course.  They’re the stiffist, most elegant people in the whole town.  And to crown it all, papa went and bought the next lot to the old Vertrees country mansion—­it’s in the very heart of the best new residence district now, and that’s where the New House is, right next door to them—­and I must say it makes their place look rather shabby!  I met Mary Vertrees when I joined the Mission Service Helpers, but she never did any more than just barely bow to me, and since papa’s break I doubt if she’ll do that!  They haven’t called.”

“And you think if I spread this gossip about Vertrees the First stealing Dan’l Boone’s gun, the chances that they will call—­”

“Papa knows what a break he made with Mrs. Vertrees.  I made him understand that,” said Edith, demurely, “and he’s promised to try and meet Mr. Vertrees and be nice to him.  It’s just this way:  if we don’t know them, it’s practically no use in our having build the New House; and if we do know them and they’re decent to us, we’re right with the right people.  They can do the whole thing for us.  Bobby Lamhorn told Sibyl he was going to bring his mother to call on her and on mamma, but it was weeks ago, and I notice he hasn’t done it; and if Mrs. Vertrees decides not to know us, I’m darn sure Mrs Lamhorn’ll never come.  That’s one thing Sibyl didn’t manage!  She said Bobby offered to bring his mother—­”

“You say he is a friend of Roscoe’s?” Bibbs asked.

“Oh, he’s a friend of the whole family,” she returned, with a petulance which she made an effort to disguise.  “Roscoe and he got acquainted somewhere, and they take him to the theater about every other night.  Sibyl has him to lunch, too, and keeps—­” She broke off with an angry little jerk of the head.  “We can see the New House from the second corner ahead.  Roscoe has built straight across the street from us, you know.  Honestly, Sibyl makes me think of a snake, sometimes—­the way she pulls the wool over people’s eyes!  She honeys up to papa and gets anything in the world she wants out of him, and then makes fun of him behind his back—­yes, and to his face, but he can’t see it!  She got him to give her a twelve-thousand-dollar porch for their house after it was—­”