An elevator discharged fifteen or eighteen women, who, with note-books in hand, hurried toward the lecture room. Some of them nodded to the salesgirl as they passed.
“Lots of the ladies have been here every afternoon, but I think this is going to be the biggest meeting of all. That title’s made a hit: ‘What Do You Do With Father’s Money?’”
Mrs. Larry gripped Claire’s arm feverishly and fairly dragged her toward the lecture room.
“My dear, I told you there’d be a way out. Talk about providence,—to think of our stumbling, first thing, on a lecture about getting your money’s worth. You ought to take this as an omen!”
They found seats near the platform and watched with interest the operations of the buyers arranging their exhibits and the movements of the competent-looking woman with a short maternal figure, snapping bright eyes and a friendly way of addressing the women in the audience who plainly regarded her as their leader. Claire, still benumbed by the departure of Jimmy Graves, sat gazing in preoccupied fashion at figures which were just so many manikins. Gregarious Mrs. Larry turned to the woman on her left.
“Have you been to the other meetings?”
“Indeed, yes, and you wouldn’t believe how much I have learned.”
“About what?” asked Mrs. Larry.
“Oh, about taking care of yourself before the baby comes, feeding babies, diet for older children, discipline, and lots of things that puzzle young mothers like me. It’s funny, isn’t it, how we girls marry without knowing a single thing about handling children, when they are the biggest thing in our lives after marriage.”
“Except our husbands,” was Mrs. Larry’s mental reservation. “Yes,” she said aloud. “I had lots of trouble with my first baby. I managed better with the second. But who bears the expenses of this conference? We didn’t pay any admission!”