“He did.  And we’ll buy the star yet.”  They were on the path now.  “Telephone me when you can,” she said, “and don’t lose a minute now!  Good luck!”

And Barry’s great stride had taken him half-way down River Street, his hands in his pockets, his mind awhirl with plans, before it occurred to him that he had not told her the news of Hetty, after all.

CHAPTER XVIII

On that same afternoon, several of the most influential members of the Santa Paloma Woman’s Club met informally at Mrs. Carew’s house.  Some of the directors were there, Miss Pratt, Mrs. Lloyd and Mrs. Adams, and of course Mrs. White, who had indeed been instrumental in arranging the meeting.  They had met to discuss Mrs. Burgoyne’s plan of using the clubhouse as a meeting place for the Old Paloma factory girls.  All these ladies were quite aware that their verdict, however unofficial, would influence the rest of the club, and that what this group of a dozen or fifteen decided upon to-day would practically settle the matter.

Mrs. Willard White, hitherto serenely supreme in this little world, was curiously upset about the whole thing, openly opposed to Mrs. Burgoyne’s suggestion, and surprised that her mere wish in the matter was not sufficient to carry a negative vote.  Her contention was that the clubhouse had been built for very different purposes than those Mrs. Burgoyne proposed, and that charity to the Old Paloma girls had no part in the club’s original reasons for being.  She meant, in the course of the argument, to hint that while so many of the actual necessities of decent living were lacking in the factory settlement homes, mere dancing and moving-pictures did not appeal to her as reasonable or right; and although uneasily aware that she supported the unpopular argument, still she was confident of an eventual triumph.

But despite the usual laughter, and the pleasantries and compliments, there was an air of deadly earnestness about the gathered club-women today that bespoke a deeper interest than was common in the matter up for discussion.  The President’s color rose and deepened steadily, as the afternoon wore on, and one voice after another declared for the new plan, and her arguments became a little less impersonal and a little more sharp.  This was especially noticeable when, as was inevitable, the name of Mrs. Burgoyne was introduced.

“I personally feel,” said Mrs. White finally, “that perhaps we Santa Paloma women are just a little bit undignified when we allow a perfect stranger to come in among us, and influence our lives so materially, just because she happens to be a multi-millionaire.  Are we so swayed by mere money?  I hope not.  I hope we all live our lives as suits us best, not to please—­or shall I say flatter, and perhaps win favor with?—­a rich woman.  We—­some of us, that is!”—­her smile was all lenience—­“have suddenly decided we can dress more simply, have suddenly decided