Now, these luxuries were to be withdrawn, these pampered tastes were to be starved.

Margaret collapsed despairingly upon her table.

"I wish to marry, Heaven knows! Only--only--" She raised herself; her lip quivered--"Good God, Grandmother, I CAN'T give myself to a man who repels me! You make me hate men--marriage--everything of that kind.

Sometimes I long to hide in a convent!" "You can indulge that longing after the end of this season," said her grandmother.

"You'll certainly hardly dare show yourself in Washington, where you have become noted for your dress....