"Georgie"
"Drusilla," said I gravely, "is there any rift in that lute? Is there anything wrong between those two? Why did they let the Goddess Girl go rushing off to visit all those dull people?"
Drusilla was silent.
"Georgie's mother is a darling," she said at last, "but she has ideas about a wife's duties. She thinks a woman ought to be able to cook the dinner she orders, and get up her own muslins and lace and things, even if she never has to do it."
"And the Goddess Girl?"
Drusilla laughed. "Objects—or, rather, differs."
"A goddess," said I, "naturally would."
"Well," said Drusilla meekly, "perhaps. But she might have given in and pretended an interest. Georgie's mother wanted her to go into the kitchen and have lessons from the cook, and she refused flatly. Said she guessed she wasn't going to spoil her gowns and finger-nails, doing chores. Said if Georgie's mother wanted a domestic
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