ideals are passing away. Things that people did ten years ago would be impossible now, or at least ridiculous. You wouldn't be considered vulgar, quite, but you would certainly be considered a back number, and that's almost as bad. Really," said Mrs. Makely, "I don't believe I can tell you what a lady is."
We all laughed together at her frank confession. The Altrurian asked, "But do I understand that one of her conditions is that she shall have nothing whatever to do?"
"Nothing to do!" cried Mrs. Makely. "A lady is busy from morning till night! She always goes to bed perfectly worn out."
"But with what?" asked the Altrurian. "With making herself agreeable and her house attractive, with going to lunches, and teas, and dinners, and concerts, and theatres, and art exhibitions, and charity meetings, and receptions, and with writing a thousand and one notes about them, and accepting and declining, and giving lunches and dinners, and making calls and receiving them, and I don't know what all. It's the most hideous slavery!" Her voice rose into something like a shriek; one could see that her nerves were going at the mere
