"That will do, Miss La Salle," she commanded sternly. "I cannot allow you to make such a disgraceful scene in my home, or insult my daughter and her guests. If you will come quietly upstairs with me and state your grievance, I shall do all in my power to rectify it. Marjorie," she turned to her daughter, who stood looking on in wide-eyed distress, "ask the musicians to start the music for the next dance."
Marjorie obeyed and, somewhat ashamed of their curiosity, the dancers forgot their thirst for lemonade and flocked into the ballroom. Only Jerry Macy and Mary Raymond remained.
"It's all my fault, Mrs. Dean," began Jerry contritely. "I didn't know Mignon was in the alcove. I can't help saying she had no business to listen, but——"
"It is my business," began Mignon furiously. "I have a right——"
"Don't begin this quarrel all over again." Mrs. Dean held up her hand for silence. "I repeat," she continued, regarding Mignon with marked displeasure, "if you will come upstairs with me——"
"Mrs. Dean, it's a shame the way Mignon has been treated to-night," burst forth Mary Raymond, "and I for one don't intend to stand by and see her insulted. Miss Macy said perfectly hateful things about her. I heard them. Marjorie is just as much to blame. She listened to them and never said a word to stop them."
"Mary Raymond!" Mrs. Dean's voice held an ominous note that should have warned Mary to hold her peace. Instead it angered her to open rebellion.
"Don't 'Mary Raymond' me," she mocked in angry sarcasm. "I meant what I said, every word of it. Mignon is my dear friend and I shall stand up for her."
"Oh, let me alone, all of you!" With an agile spring, Mignon gained the stairway and sped up the stairs on winged feet. Two minutes later, wrapped in her evening coat and scarf, she reappeared at the head and ran down the steps two at a time. "Thank you so much for a delightful evening," she bowed ironically. "I'm so sorry I haven't time to stay and be lectured. It's too bad, isn't it, Miss Mary, that the reform couldn't go on?" To Mary she held out her hand. "Come and spend the day with me to-morrow, Mary. You may like it so well, you'll decide to stay. If you do, why just come along whenever you feel disposed. I can assure you that our house is a pleasanter place to live in than the one you are in now." With this pointed fling she bowed again in mock courtesy to the silent woman who had offended her and flounced out the door and into the starlit night to where her own electric runabout was standing.
"Can you beat that?" was the tribute that fell from Jerry Macy's lips.