"Next time," she said presently, "I shall go out to supper when an
attractive man asks me. I know how to take care of myself--and the
supper, too."

Athalie started to say something, and stopped. Perhaps she remembered
C. Bailey, Jr., and that she had promised to dine and sup with him,
"anywhere."

She said in a low voice: "It's all right, I suppose, if you know the
man."

"I don't care whether I know him or not as long as it's a good
restaurant."

"Don't talk that way, Doris!"

"Why not? It's true."

There was a silence. Doris set aside the empty bowl, yawned, looked at
the clock, yawned again.

"This is too late for Catharine," she said, drowsily.

"I know it is. Who are the people she's with?"

"Genevieve Hunting--I don't know the men:--some of Genevieve's
friends."

"I hope it's nobody from Winton's."

There had been in the Greensleeve family, a tacit understanding that
it was not the thing to accept social attentions from anybody
connected with the firm which employed them. Winton, the male milliner
and gown designer, usually let his models alone, being in perpetual
dread of his wife; but one of the unhealthy looking sons had become a
nuisance to the girls employed there. Recently he had annoyed
Catharine, and the girl was afraid she might have to lunch with him or
lose her position.