“‘Tell these girls that the remedy is simple. They must be careful to regulate the supply to the demand. They could easily raise the price above par by denying now and then that they have any conversation in the treasury.’
“Marie promised to undertake this important work, and I knew that in connection with it she would also get some valuable advice.
“You see, this tendency to extravagant display has sunk in very deep. Our young people really do know a lot, and they want others to know that they know it. They are plumed with culture, and it has become a charge instead of a credit.
“Well, things began to mend. Betsey and I went to dine with the Bensons one evening, and Marie was as quiet as a 60 lamb. She answered modestly when we spoke to her. She told no stories; her jeweled crown of culture was not in sight; she listened with notable success, and delighted us with well-managed and illuminating silence. Neither she nor her mother nor Mrs. Bryson ventured to interrupt the talk of a noted professor who dined with us. Marie was charming.
“After dinner she led me into the library, where we sat down together.
“She seemed a little embarrassed, and presently said, with a laugh, ‘I had a talk with those girls, as you suggested.’
“‘What did they say?’ I asked.
“‘What didn’t they say?’ she exclaimed. ‘They flew at me like wildcats. They tore me to pieces––said I was the most dreaded talker in Pointview, that I had talked a steady stream ever since I was born, that nobody had a chance to get in a word with me, that I had made all the boys sick who ever came to see me. What do you think of that?’
