another.  There was poor Connie Fox, desperately eager and amiable, dancing with the youngest men and the oldest men, glittering and jolly in her dingy blue silk; and Connie’s mother, who was her chaperon, a little fluttering fool of a woman, nervously eager to ingratiate, and nervously afraid to intrude her company upon these demi-gods and goddesses; and Theodora Carleton, handsome in too low cut a gown, laughing with Alan Gregory, and aware, as every one in the room was aware, that her husband’s first wife was also at the dance.  The room grew warm, the air heavy with delicate perfumes.  Men were mopping their faces; some of the debutantes looked like wilting roses; the faces of some of the older women were shining.  It was midnight, the latest comers had arrived, the floor was well filled.

“I wonder if I will be doing this twenty years from now,” thought Julia.  “I wonder if my daughter will come to the Brownings, then?”

“... which I call disgraceful, don’t you, Mrs. Studdiford?” asked Miss Saunders suddenly.

“I beg your pardon!” Julia said, startled into attention, “I didn’t hear you!”

“I know you didn’t,” the other said, laughing, “nevertheless, it was a low trick,” she added to Mrs. Thayer, “and Leila Orvis can wait a long time before she makes the peace with me!  Charity’s all very well, but when it comes to palming off girls like that upon your friends, it’s just a little too much!”

“How’s it happen ye didn’t ask the girl for any references, me dear?” asked Mrs. Thayer.

“Because Leila told me she knew all about her!” snapped Miss Saunders.

“What was she, a waitress?” Julia asked, amused.

“No, she was nothing!” Miss Saunders said in high scorn; “she’d had no training whatever—­not that I mind that.  She was simply supposed to help with the pantry work and make herself generally useful.  Well, one day Carrie, a maid Mother’s had for years, told Mother that something this Ada had said she fancied Ada had been in some sort of reform school—­imagine!  Of course poor Mother collapsed, and Emily telephoned for me—­the kid always rises to an emergency, I will say that.  So I rushed home, and got the whole story out of Ada in five minutes.  At first she cried a good deal, and pretended it was an orphans’ home; orphans’ home—­ha!  Finally I scared her into admitting that it was a place just for girls of her sort—­”

“Fancy!” said Mrs. Thayer, fanning.  Julia had grown a little pale.

“What did you do, Miss Saunders?” said she.

“Do?  I sent her packing, of course!” said that lady, smiling as she bowed to an acquaintance across the room.  “I told her to go straight back to Mrs. Orvis, and say I sent her.  However, she didn’t, for I telephoned Leila at once—­Lucy Bacon is trying to bow to you, Mrs. Studdiford—­over there, with your husband!”

“I wonder where she did go?” pursued Julia.