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 row will come her rival, the doctor’s wife; and again you will hear precisely the same thing, only the names will be changed. But the saddest thing about all this is, that it will be the truth, just as what was told to-day was the truth. It is a terrible world! It was quite different in my day!”

Lucy awoke from her dreaming, for until then she was looking meditatively at the waving clover.

“But, Aunty, what is it all about? Whence comes all that hostility between the ladies?”

“Well, that is a fine story,—really, it is amusing. A few years ago the two, the doctor’s and the burgomaster’s wives, lived in great friendship, like two sisters. The third in their company was the wife of the judge,—she is dead now. These three were together everywhere, at parties, at outings, at games, and they made matches among themselves for their children, while they were