Gwendolyn caught her breath. The society bee in her bonnet?
"Ah!" breathed Louise, as if comprehending. Then, "Dear! dear!"
"She talks nothing else. She hears nothing else. She sees nothing else."
"Bad as that?"
"Goes wherever she can shove in—subscription lectures and musicales, hospital teas, Christmas bazars. And she benches her Poms; has boxes at the Horse Show and the Opera; gives gold-plate dinners, and Heaven knows what!"
"Ha! ha! You haven't boosted her, dear?"
"Not a bit of it! Make a point of never being seen anywhere with her."
"And he?"
Gwendolyn swallowed. He was her father.
"Well, it has kept the poor fellow in harness all the time, of course. You should have seen him when he first came to town—straight and boyish, and very handsome. (You know the type.) He's changed! Burns his candles at both ends."