Fortunately they didn't give me time to talk, I never
heard people talk as they do. They all kissed me when I went away, and
came down the steps with me. And Mrs. Scherer went into the conservatory
and picked a huge bouquet. There it is," she said, laughingly, pointing
to several vases. "I separated the colours as well as I could when I got
home. We had coffee, and the most delicious German cakes in the Turkish
room, or the Moorish room, whichever it is. I'm sure I shan't be able to
eat anything more for days. When do you wish to have them for dinner?"

"Well," I said, "we ought to have time to get the right people to meet
them. We'll ask Nancy and Ham."

Maude opened her eyes.

"Nancy! Do you think Nancy would like them?"

"I'm going to give her a chance, anyway," I replied....

It was, in some ways, a memorable dinner. I don't know what I expected
in Mrs. Scherer--from Maude's description a benevolent and somewhat
stupid, blue-eyed German woman, of peasant extraction. There could be no
doubt about the peasant extraction, but when she hobbled into our little
parlour with the aid of a stout, gold-headed cane she dominated it.
Her very lameness added to a distinction that evinced itself in a
dozen ways. Her nose was hooked, her colour high,--despite the years
in Steelville,--her peculiar costume heightened the effect of her
personality; her fire-lit black eyes bespoke a spirit accustomed to
rule, and instead of being an aspirant for social honours, she seemed to
confer them. Conversation ceased at her entrance.

"I'm sorry we are late, my dear," she said, as she greeted Maude
affectionately, "but we have far to come. And this is your husband!"
she exclaimed, as I was introduced. She scrutinized me. "I have heard
something of you, Mr. Paret. You are smart. Shall I tell you the
smartest thing you ever did?" She patted Maude's shoulder. "When you
married your wife--that was it. I have fallen in love with her. If you
do not know it, I tell you."

Next, Nancy was introduced.

"So you are Mrs. Hambleton Durrett?"

Nancy acknowledged her identity with a smile, but the next remark was a
bombshell.

"The leader of society."

"Alas!" exclaimed Nancy, "I have been accused of many terrible things."

Their glances met. Nancy's was amused, baffling, like a spark in amber.
Each, in its way, was redoubtable. A greater contrast between two women
could scarcely have been imagined. It was well said (and not snobbishly)
that