"Yes, but she calls herself Mrs. Elsie Carroll Pope now. Why not?"
"Oh, Jim—but she's divorced!"
"Well, so are lots of other people!"
"Yes, I know. But it was such a horrid divorce, Jim!"
"Horrid how?"
"Oh, some other man, and letters in the papers, and Mr. Pope kept both the children! It was awful!"
"Oh, come, Ju—she's a nice little thing, awfully witty and clever. Why go out of your way to knock her!"
"I'm not going out of my way," Julia answered with dignity. "But she was a great friend of Mary Chetwynde, who used to teach at The Alexander, and she came out there two or three times, and she's a noisy, yelling sort of woman—and her hair is dyed—yes, it is, Jim!"
"Lord, you women do love to rip each other up the back!" Jim smiled lazily, as he wheeled his chair about, and lighted a cigarette.
"I'm not ripping her up the back at all," Julia protested with spirit. "But she's not a lady, and I hate the particular set she goes with—"