"How is Aunt Lavinia?" she said, abruptly changing the conversation.
"Just as idiotic as ever. Sent five pounds to Barnardo's Homes yesterday, and refused to pay my hat bill."
Gay looked disgusted, knowing that the sweet lady's life was one long struggle to balance Lossie's dressmaking bills and her own private charities, the result being that she had not a frock or bonnet good enough to play chaperon in, so that Lossie was dependent on her friends and Gay to take her about.
"That reminds me," said Gay, "I haven't sent my contribution yet," and she rose and went to her writing-table, where she jotted down a note.
"As to my dressmaker," said Lossie, "she's going to summon me. It's all these hateful seasons of the year—as soon as one is straight for spring, it's summer, then winter in the middle of that—and so on. Why can't we live in a place where the same sort of clothes do all the year round?"
"That blue frock you wore at the ball must have been very expensive," said Gay hesitatingly; "the dear aunt really does her best, you know."
"Oh, it's easy for you to talk," cried Lossie spitefully. "One-half of the feminine world is a pincushion, for the other rich and happy half to stick pins in, and I don't pretend to be like Aunt Lavinia, who would rather be the pincushion than the pins!"
"I'm sure," said Gay wearily, too unhappy to be indignant, "I never stuck any pins in you or anybody else."
"Well, no," admitted Lossie, who had an excellent reason for getting Gay into a good temper, "you don't, but every woman is given two chances of happiness in life, a rich father, or an adequate husband—or both—but as a matter of fact, the double event seldom comes off—indeed, far more women are ruined by their fathers than their husbands. Cherchez la femme indeed! Oh, it's easy enough for a girl to be gay, to be happy, if she's rich—if men 'don't go after the money,' they don't refuse to go where the money is!"
Gay coloured. She knew well enough that her fortune counted for nothing in the eyes of at least two men towards her—Chris couldn't and wouldn't give up trying to win her because she had more money than he had, and Carlton was so rich, that if he ever cast it a thought, it was merely as private pocket-money with which to buy chiffons and fal-lals.