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being fools, would feel called upon to click their tongues in her defence.

“Of course,” she added hastily, with a smile meant to disarm Patricia, who had flushed angrily at the insult, “when I say ‘outsiders,’ Miss Weybourn, I mean—ah—well———.”

“Outsiders,” Patricia finished the sentence for her grimly. “Those outside your own set.”

“Not at all, not at all. What I mean is that I consider it unwise to include a comparative stranger in our circle of friends. You mustn’t misunderstand. My committee consists of old friends; friends who have helped me on other committees. We have done much good work in the past together, and we feel that we shall accomplish more if we are left alone to work in our own way.”

Patricia looked keenly and appraisingly at the old friends, all of whom, save one, allowed their disapproval of her to show on their faces. The exception was the man who had clicked his tongue. His eyes seemed to beg her to carry on the good work.

“You require new blood on your committee, Mrs. Langham,” she decided, clipping her words and speaking in a raised voice. “I see one or two members who have long since lost the confidence of the public.”

“Well!” exclaimed one of the members, in pained surprise. “Well, I never!”

Some idler chuckled audibly, and there was a faint movement of approval in the audience, for whose close attention Mrs. Langham evinced less gratification than she should have done.

“And am I to understand that you represent the public of New Plymouth?” asked Mrs. Langham, staring up haughtily at this hussy who dared thus to publicly challenge her august judgment.

“Yes!” came the instant answer from somewhere in the crowd.

“Then the public is unfortunate!” snapped Mrs. Langham, losing her temper.