“No,” said Montague, who had never heard of her.

“I think those aristocratic English women use the most abominable slang,” continued Anne.  “Have you noticed it?”

“Yes, I have,” he said.

“And so utterly cynical!  Do you know, Lady Stonebridge quite shocked mother—­she told her she didn’t believe in marriage at all, and that she thought all men were naturally polygamous!”

Later on, Montague came to know “Mrs. Sarey”; and one afternoon, sitting in her Petit Trianon drawing-room, he asked her abruptly, “Why in the world do you want to get into Society?” And the poor lady caught her breath, and tried to be indignant; and then, seeing that he was in earnest, and that she was cornered, broke down and confessed.  “It isn’t me,” she said, “it’s the gals.” (For along with the surrender went a reversion to natural speech.) “It’s Mary, and more particularly Anne.”

They talked it over confidentially—­which was a great relief to Mrs. Sarey’s soul, for she was cruelly lonely.  So far as she was concerned, it was not because she wanted Society, but because Society didn’t want her.  She flashed up in sudden anger, and clenched her fists, declaring that Jack Evans was as good a man as walked the streets of New York—­and they would acknowledge it before he got through with them, too!  After that she intended to settle down at home and be comfortable, and mend her husband’s socks.

She went on to tell him what a hard road was the path of glory.  There were hundreds of people ready to know them—­but oh, such a riffraff!  They might fill up their home with the hangers-on and the yellow, but no, they could wait.  They had learned a lot since they set out.  One very aristocratic lady had invited them to dinner, and their hopes had been high—­but alas, while they were sitting by the fireplace, some one admired a thirty-thousand-dollar emerald ring which Mrs. Evans had on her finger, and she had taken it off and passed it about among the company, and somewhere it had vanished completely!  And another person had invited Mary to a bridge-party, and though she had played hardly at all, her hostess had quietly informed her that she had lost a thousand dollars.  And the great Lady Stonebridge had actually sent for her and told her that she could introduce her in some of the very best circles, if only she was willing to lose always!  Mrs. Evans had possessed a very homely Irish name before she was married; and Lady Stonebridge had got five thousand dollars from her to use some great influence she possessed in the Royal College of Heralds, and prove that she was descended directly from the noble old family of Magennis, who had been the lords of Iveagh, way back in the fourteenth century.  And now Oliver had told them that this imposing charter would not help them in the least!

In the process of elimination, there were the Misses Evans left.  Montague’s friends made many jests when they heard that he had met them—­asking him if he meant to settle down.  Major Venable went so far as to assure him that there was not the least doubt that either of the girls would take him in a second.  Montague laughed, and answered that Mary was not so bad—­she had a sweet face and was good-natured; but also, she was two years younger than Anne; and he could not get over the thought that two more years might make another Anne of her.