"Really," she answered, "there isn't anything so very conspicuous about
having had a grandfather."

"No," her hostess echoed, "even I, so well and favorably known for my
vulgarity--even _I_ had a grandfather."

"But he wasn't a connoisseur in tapestries, Minnie darling."

"No, but he was in pigs, the dear vulgarian."

"True vulgarity," said one of the men, "vulgarity in the best sense, I
mean, should betray no consciousness of its own existence. Only thus can
it be really great."

"Oh, Minnie's vulgarity is just artificial, assumed because she found it
worked so well."

"Surely you accord her some natural talent along those lines."

"I suspect her secret mind is refined."

"Oh, that's not fair. Vulgar is as vulgar does."

Adelaide stood up, pushing back her chair. She found them utterly
intolerable. Besides, as they talked she had suddenly seen clearly that
she must herself speak to Vincent's doctor without an instant's delay. "I
have to telephone, Minnie," she said, and swept out of the room. She
never returned.

"Not one of the perfect lady's golden days, I should say," said one of