at once
roused his curiosity to make a trial; but he decided that the club was
better, if less picturesque. And he told me that all the men of the
automobile party had received from John Mayrant cards of invitation to
the club.

"Your fire-eater is a civil chap," said Beverly. "And by the way, do you
happen to know," here he pulled from his pocket a letter and consulted
its address, "Mrs. Weguelin St. Michael?"

I was delighted that he brought an introduction to this lady; Hortense
Rieppe could not open for him any of those haughty doors; and I wished
not only that Beverly (since he was just the man to appreciate it and
understand it) should see the fine flower of Kings Port, but also that
the fine flower of Kings Port should see him; the best blood of the
South could not possibly turn out anything better than Beverly Rodgers,
and it was horrible and humiliating to think of the other Northern
specimens of men whom Hortense had imported with her. I was here
suddenly reminded that the young woman was a guest of the Cornerlys,
the people who swept their garden, the people whom Eliza La Heu at the
Exchange did not "know"; and at this the remark of Mrs. Gregory St.
Michael, when I had walked with her and Mrs. Weguelin, took on an added
lustre of significance:--

"We shall have to call."

Call on the Cornerlys! Would they do that? Were they ready to stand by
their John to that tune? A hotel would be nothing; you could call on
anybody at a hotel, if you had to; but here would be a demarche indeed!
Yet, nevertheless, I felt quite certain that, if Hortense, though the
Cornerlys' guest, was also the guaranteed fiancee of John Mayrant, the
old ladies would come up to the scratch, hate and loathe it as they
might, and undoubtedly would: they could be trusted to do the right
thing.

I told Beverly how glad I was that he would meet Mrs. Weguelin St.
Michael. "The rest of your party, my friend," I said, "are not very
likely to." And I generalized to him briefly upon the town of Kings
Port. "Supposing I take you to call upon Mrs. St. Michael when I come
back this afternoon?" I suggested.

Beverly thought it over, and then shook his head. "Wouldn't do, old man.
If these people are particular and know, as you say they do, hadn't I
better leave the letter with my card, and then wait till she sends some
word?"

He was right, as he always was, unerringly. Consorting with all the
Charleys, and the Bohms, and the Cohns, and the Kitt