Mrs. Green flushed scarlet, but Mrs. Judson merely waved her fan a little quicker.
“There will be a great many private charities to meet. Each of the lady patronesses has a list,” she said quietly.
“Yes, I have heard so,” Mrs. Brown retorted; “women who have done them services either as toadies or favorites. That is understood among the knowing ones.”
“Madam!”
Mrs. Judson seemed at least three inches taller than she had been a moment before, and her moire-antique rustled ominously in all its voluminous folds.
“I hear,” said Mrs. Brown, in no way daunted, “that there is not the president of a single moral reform or really benevolent society on the committee.”
“I believe not,” answered Mrs. Judson with cold dignity; “but there is no reason why any or all of these societies should not unite and raise all the funds they can. We certainly do not prevent them.”
“Certainly not! certainly not!” said Mrs. Green, who was determined on securing whatever was to be attained by flattery and persuasion. “Only, you know, it would be useless to attempt it, after your brilliant success; what could we do but creep after you at a very humble distance? The truth is, we must depend on the country,—there our reports have a beautiful effect,—and upon the justice of your committee, all composed of ladies lifted beyond the idea of favoritism.”
This soothing speech brought down Mrs. Judson’s ruffled pride, and she bent her head in acknowledgment of Mrs. Green’s good opinion.
“The ladies have striven to divide this money in a way that will secure the greatest good,” she said.