"Last year's novels!" she smiled. "As thrilling as last year's birds' nests."
She turned up an illustrated society weekly of a former spring. The frontispiece held her a moment, and she shook her head.
"And last year's reputations. Here's a big portrait of Mrs. Richard Lanthorpe and her two children." She read the caption aloud: "'Prominent young matron who is just opening her Newport villa. Though a devoted mother to her charming little daughters, Mrs. Lanthorpe is also well known as a skilful whip.'"
"Good Lord!" said Winifred, reaching out her hand. "Let me see the cat. A whip, eh? You could drive a coach and four through her reputation now."
Mrs. Neff took the paper from her hand. "Her husband got the kiddies. Pretty little tikes, too."
"She sold 'em for the Newport villa," said Alice, looking over her mother's shoulder. Mrs. Neff turned on her with a glare of amazement.
"Where do you children pick up such things?"
"I'm not children," said Alice, "and the papers were full of it."
"Mrs. Dicky was up here last spring for a week-end with her husband," said Willie. "And so was the other man. What's his name? Later I heard that people had been talking a lot even then, but I never suspected anything till later."
"You never would, Willie," said Mrs. Neff. She stared at the picture. "She's really very good-looking, and she wasn't a bad sort altogether. I wonder which one of us will be gone next winter?"