In Sight of St. Paul's — page 201: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

196 THE PANTHER’S BIRTHDAY. than to nature. ‘‘My dear, we don’t pay for them.”’ re ‘Tots more where they came from,’’ chimed in another. ‘“Ves,’’? added a third, with a burst of cynical laughter, ‘‘a pound or two more or less, what does it matter ?”? | Amid the general merriment at the expense of the foolish members of the opposite sex who thus per- mitted their money to be squandered, one of the tall girl footmen, to commit an Irish bull, announced, in a shrill voice: “Mrs, Moreland.” . All turned toward the door as Beatrice came rust- ling in, clad in a robe which was, to say the least, startling, being an extraordinary mixture of nearly all the colors of the rainbow. A murmur, half-admiring, half-sarcastic, went ~ around. ‘‘My dear Beatrice,’? murmured Cynthia, gliding forward with outstretched hands. ‘‘You have come at last!’ 7 The two women exchanged a kiss, as they gener- ally did, even though at heart they were enemies and rivals, and each was aware of the fact. ‘“Why so late?’’.asked the hostess. | An expression of sadness swept over Beatrice’s face. (E(0) Eomicbooks