happens in the lower classes, and sometimes in our own. Why are these not to have votes with the men—and equal chances? However, we really must get on with the business of the meeting. Miss Gillson! where is Miss Gillson? Is it possible you are still before the glass, Miss Gillson? I fear I shall never make a new woman of you, my dear."
Miss Gillson turned smiling. "It was a hook that would not hook," she said, confused. "I wasn't admiring myself, I assure you. I won't sit down, but shall go right on and try to convert Mr. Westcliff." She passed out, closing the door softly behind her.
"It wasn't the hook that kept her, it was the baiting of it," said a woman with a sour smile.
"She is a dear creature," her neighbour answered. "I should not wonder if Mr. Westcliff were an old lover, she took such pains over her appearance."
"She is, indeed," the other said, more heartily. "I always love to kiss her—her make-up has such a lovely perfume."
But Miss Gillson, all unconscious of her
