Do you see that woman up aloft there?"
"Well?"
"She's the president and responsible manager of an orphan asylum. That
one over across on the other side is an officer of the Civil Federation.
Do you believe in that?"
"Devoutly."
"The woman just ahead of us--the purple velvet one--is a member of the
Board of Education; she helps to place teachers and to audit coal bills.
Why, even I myself have got a good many more things to look after than
you could easily shake a stick at!"
"And the one you this instant bowed to?"
"You mean the one who bowed to me." For Mrs. Rhodes had leaned completely
out of her box, and had then looked both right and left to observe
whether her neighbors had done full justice to the episode. "Oh, she's a
good little woman who is--climbing.
"The fact is," Mrs. Bates proceeded, "that there are not a dozen real
grown-up butterflies in town. We're coming to one now." They were
skirting one range of the lower boxes. "It's Mrs. Ingles; you must meet
her."
"Some other time, please," implored Brower, as Mrs. Bates nodded to a
sumptuous young creature not ten feet away.
"Very well." Mrs. Bates shrugged her shoulders "Yes," she proceeded,
presently, "Cecilia Ingles and her immediate set are about the only real
butterflies we have. However, I'm going to take her in hand pretty soon
and make a good, earnest woman of her."
"There is work for them all," said Brower.
"But don't let's be too serious just now," rejoined Mrs.
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