the while she was imbruing the minds of the
little children with the dye of her own thoughts. The innocents
naturally accepted everything she told them as the essence of truth.

Marie Louise hoped to settle the affair before dinner, but by the time
she was gowned and primped, the first premature guest had arrived like
the rashest primrose, shy, surprised, and surprising. Sir Joseph had
gone below already. Lady Webling was hull down on the stairway.

Marie Louise saw that her protest must wait till after the dinner, and
she followed to do her duty to the laws of hospitality.

Sir Joseph liked to give these great affairs. He loved to eat and to
see others eat. "The more the merrier," was his motto--one of the
most truthless of the old saws. Little dinners at Sir Joseph's--what
he called "on fameals"--would have been big dinners elsewhere. A big
dinner was like a Lord Mayor's banquet. He needed only a crier at his
back and a Petronius to immortalize his _gourmandise_.

To-night he had great folk and small fry. Nobody pretended to know the
names of everybody. Sir Joseph himself leaned heavily on the man who
sang out the labels of the guests, and even then his wife whispered
them to him as they came forward, and for a precaution, kept slipping
them into the conversation as reminders.

There were several Americans present: a Doctor and Mrs. Clinton
Worthing who had come over with a special shipload of nurses. The ship
had been fitted out by Mrs. Worthing, who had been Muriel Schuyler,
daughter of the giant plutocrat, Jacob Schuyler, who was lending
England millions of money weekly. A little American millionaire,
Willie Enslee, living in England now on account of some scandal in his
past, was there. He did not look romantic.

Marie Louise had no genius for names, or faces, either. To-night she
was frightened, and she made some horrible blunders, greeting the
grisly Mr. Verrinder by the name of Mr. Hilary. The association was
clear, for Mr. Hilary had called Mr. Verrinder atrocious names in
Parliament; but it was like calling "Mr. Capulet" "Mr. Montague."
Marie Louise tried to redeem her blunder by putting on an extra
effusiveness for the sake of Mr. and Mrs. Norcross. Mrs. Norcross had
only recently shaken off the name of Mrs. Patchett after a resounding
divorce. So Marie Louise called her new husband by the name of her
old, which made it very pleasant.

Her wits were so badly dispersed that she gave up the attempt to t