FLAMING
YOUTH
279
“Oh, Mark’s like the Pig that forgot he was Educated. He doesn’t count.” ’ “Who does count at the present moment?” “Nobody. That’s the big trouble,” said Pat fretfully. “They none of ’em give me any thrill. I’m bored, Bobs.” “Pose of youth,” opined Bobs. Herein he was wrong. Pat really was bored, though she would not admit to herself the reason, deep and effective in the background of her willful soul. Life was flat, stale, tasteless. Men were either unenterprising guineapigs or bellowing rhinoceroses. Women were cats. She loathed the tame and monotonous world. It was boredom, combined with a provocative accidental discovery,
that led her to the reckless adventure of the Washington Heights flat and Edna Carroll. In an earlier age the Fentriss family would have re ferred to Edna
Carroll with hushed voices, if at all, as
“that woman.” In this enlightened and tolerant time she was humorously characterised by the three girls as
- Ralph’s flossie.”” Little was known of her. She lived
somewhere outside the social pale and Fentriss’s liaison with her had endured for many years. Constance was sure that she was of the flamboyant, roystering, chorusgirl type. Dee inclined to the soft and babyish siren. Pat speculated rangingly, and had more than once endeav-
oured to pump Osterhout, with notable lack of success. From some unlocatable purlieu of gossip had issued the rumour that Ralph Fentriss was going to marry her, perhaps had already done so secretly. Constance was
outraged.
Dee was cynically amused, but skeptical
Pat
was hotly excited. Entering the city by one of the upper ferries one day in search
matter
of a dressmaker’s
of a dinner gown,
assistant,
the youngest
recreant
in the
daughter was
