sider all Stephen's ideas as old-fashioned, and out-of-date.
She could see nothing but advantage in forming alliances with such women as Phyllis and Myrtle. "They're in everything. They go everywhere." Nothing but distinction in entering into every activity and amusement that they suggested. "Gracious, how little men know how to get on in society." Stephen was harping morning, noon, and night, on the dangers of too intimate friendships, and too rapid progress. "If I followed your advice I wouldn't get anywhere. You'd make out of me just a prim, stupid, little stay-at-home. Myrtle says she'd just die if her husband tried to dictate to her the way you do to me."
"'Myrtle says'! Oh, Stella, you don't talk over our affairs with your women friends, do you?"
"Oh, no! Of course not. We talk just about the weather!"
"But, Stella, surely your sense of good taste would prevent you from telling any one of our differences of opinion?"
"Our 'squabbles,' you mean? Oh, Stephen, a saint couldn't please you. Finding fault with the things I talk about with my girl friends! Honestly!"
"They'll only ridicule you afterwards. I don't like those women. I wish you'd avoid them. I don't think they're real friends of yours."
"That's right. Run them down. Have friends of your own, you lunch with and play cards with, and golf with, and have a regular good time with, but don't let me have anybody! Myrtle says some men are like that—jealous even of their wives' women friends. Oh, Stephen, why will you try to take the
