"I don't think love affairs are much fun, anyway," sighed Mollie. "Surely Helen's was miserable, and only resulted in making everybody unhappy and uncomfortable."
"That strikes me as a trifle pessimistic, Moll," said Eleanor. "Happy marriages may be rare, but it can't be denied that they exist."
"Oh! dearie me," groaned Nan, "when you talk like that you make me feel as if the world were turning upside down. I never dreamed of it being a question of love affairs, and marriages."
"I was not referring to anyone in particular," Eleanor protested hastily, "we were merely arguing in an abstract way. Weren't we, Moll?"
"All I meant was," Nan went on in a dolorous voice, "that we have lost our originality when we begin to act just like other girls—flirting, and all that sort of rot. We used to have fun in the good old days when we all staid together. There were never any discussions as to how we should walk or drive for everybody was willing to go with everybody else. Tête-à-têtes were unheard of, and nobody was ever silly."
Mollie's sentiments chimed in with Nan, but Eleanor's assent was somewhat slower in coming.
"I suppose it is only a question of time," she said, "for the Vortex can't be here much longer, and Mr. Churchill always takes the Sylph back to town in September. Then we can settle down, and have a good old-fashioned time during 'the autumn.'"
"When will Cliff go?" Nan asked, with a sly laugh.
Eleanor turned her head away to hide the tell-tale color that rose in her face.
"Oh! come, Nancy, your imagination is running away with you. Nothing will satisfy you short of the banishment of the sex."