daintily fed, not stuffed. I'm sure I could not pay it a
higher or a rarer compliment.

After dinner the Promoter told stories of "deals," to which the
Professor listened curiously, watching the speaker as he might have
gently eyed some strange specimen in the world of insects or of birds.
The Judge and the Cashier hobnobbed for a while; then the Judge made his
way to the side of Wistaria and remained there for an indefinite period,
both looking deeply interested in their conversation. The Engineer
attempted to make something of Althea, but presently gave it up, spent a
few moments with Camellia, and came back to me. By and by Azalea and the
Cashier sang a duet for us, and after some persuasion Azalea then sang
alone. Altogether, the evening got on somehow--it is all very hazy in my
mind, except for one singular fact--I did not spend a moment with the
Philosopher. How this happened I do not know, and it was so unusual that
it seemed noteworthy. It was not because he was not several times in my
immediate vicinity, but I was always at the moment so engaged with
whomever happened to be talking with me that I had not time to turn and
include the Philosopher in the interview.

When our guests departed they went together, having one and the same car
to catch. All but Wistaria, who had come in her own private carriage,
which was late in arriving to take her home. The Philosopher had
remained with her, and he took her down to her carriage. I cannot
remember seeing anything more attractive than Wistaria's personality as
she said good night, her sparkling face all winsome cordiality, her
white scarf lying lightly upon the masses of her black hair, the crimson
rose nodding from the folds of her long, white cloak.

"Pretty fine looking pair, aren't they?" observed the Skeptic, with an
expansive grin, the moment the door had closed upon Wistaria and the
Philosopher. He threw himself into a chair and yawned mightily.
"Wistaria's almost as tall as Philo, isn't she? A superb woman."

"I never saw her looking so well," agreed Hepatica, straightening chairs
and settling couch pillows, trailing here and there in her pretty frock
with all the energy of the early morning, as if it were not half-after
eleven by the little mantel clock. "Didn't you like her, dear?" She
threw an eager glance at me. She was in the restless mood of the hostess
who wishes to be assured that everything has gone well.

"I was charmed with her," said I--I had no