When the difficult undertaking was complete Mrs. Symes looked over his shoulder and read the list.
"You haven't Essie Tisdale's name."
Mr. Symes laughed good-humoredly—
"Oh, she'll be there; she'll wait on the table."
"You don't mean to ask Essie Tisdale?" Mrs. Symes's eyes opened.
Symes shook his head.
"That seems awfully mean," insisted Mrs. Symes in feeble protest; "she's always been so nice to me at dances and things."
"My dear," Symes replied impatiently, "we can't invite all the people who have been nice to us. Won't you ever understand that society must draw the line somewhere?"
Mrs. Symes pondered this new thought a long time.
When the invitations were out and the news of the dinner spread it became the chief topic of conversation. The fact that the dinner was at seven instead of twelve o'clock, noon, occasioned much hilarity among the uninvited while the invited guests were more than delighted at the fashionable hour. A tinge of acerbity was noticeable in the comments of those who were unaccustomed to the sensation of being excluded, among them Mrs. Abe Tutts, whose quick recognition of slights led one to believe she had received a great many of them. Mrs. Tutts, who was personally distasteful to Mr. Symes, went so far as to inquire belligerently of Mrs. Symes why she had not been invited.