a sweet old lady and of good New
England family--a constitutional Methodist, he calls her. I wish she
kept better company."

"But what can you expect of a girl brought up in a pigsty. Her mother
was mistress of a little miners' hotel in Junction City, Allen says, and
the girl boasts of it."

Mrs. Congdon smiled. "I'm dying to talk with her. She's far and away the
most interesting of our newly rich, and I like her face. Frank has
called, you know?"

"Has he?"

"On business, of course. She has decided to have him paint her husband's
picture. She's taken her first step upward, you see."

"I should think she'd be content to have her saloon-keeper husband's
face fade out of her memory."

"Frank is enthusiastic. I'm not a bit sure that he didn't suggest the
portrait. He is shameless when he takes a fancy to a face. He's wild to
paint them both and call it 'The Lion Tamer and the Lion.' He considers
Haney a great character. It seems he saw him in Cripple Creek once, and
was vastly taken by his pose. His being old and sad now--his face is one
of the saddest I ever saw--makes it all the more interesting to Frank.
So I'm going to call--in fact, we're going to lunch there soon."

"Oh, well, yes. You artists can do anything, and it's all right. You
must come over immediately afterwards and tell me all about it, won't
you?"

At this Mrs. Congdon laughed, but, being of generous mind, consented.

Crego was right. Bertha had not yet begun to take on trouble about her
social position. She had carried to her big house in the Springs all the
ideas and usages of Sibley Junction--that was all. She acknowledged her
obligations as a householder, carrying forward the New England
democratic traditions. To be next door made any one a neighbor, with the
right to run in to inspect your house and furniture and to give advice.
The fact that near-at-hand residents did not avail themselves of this
privilege troubled her very little at first, so busy was she with her
own affairs; but it was inevitable that the talk of her mother's church
associates should sooner or later open her eyes to the truth that the
distinctions which she had read about as existing in New York and
Chicago were present in her own little city. "Mrs. Crego and her set are
too stuck up to associate with common folks," was the form in which the
revelation came to her.

From one loose-tongued sister she learned, also, that she and the
Captain were subjects of earnest pra