her social position was intact. She said as much to her daughter Ruth in proposing the dinner.
"I think it's an excellent idea," replied Ruth, "to have Mr. and Mrs. Farrar here. They are both delightful people, and at this time especially they ought to be made to feel at home in every one of our houses."
"Oh," responded the mother, "I have no sympathy for Mr. Farrar. He deserves to have a social ban placed on him. He's making himself so perfectly ridiculous and—and obnoxious; yes, really obnoxious. I don't see what he can possibly be thinking about. I'm going to tell him so if he comes, and I'm going to do it openly and aboveboard. But as for his dear little wife, she must be protected against the consequences of his folly so far as we are able to protect her. Don't you think so?"
"I don't think it's folly on his part, mother; I think it's bravery. But, whatever it is, she should not suffer. Whom shall we invite to meet them?"
"That's what worries me. So many of the best people have taken umbrage at what Mr. Farrar's been preaching that really I don't know to whom he would be acceptable."
"Why not risk Mr. and Mrs. Claybank? or Colonel Boston and his wife?"
"Oh, dear me! Colonel Boston and Mr. Claybank can't endure the man. Jane Chichester said that both of them got fairly wild at the vestry meeting when he insisted on his free pew nonsense."
"Well, if you want some one who agrees with him, there are Mr. and Mrs. Hazzard, and Mr. Emberly and his sister."
"Ruth! What are you thinking of? Such ordinary people! Neither of those women is on my calling list, and I haven't even a speaking acquaintance with the men. I haven't swallowed Mr. Farrar's ideas of social equality yet; besides, this dinner is not on his account;
