somer
or much plainer than usual in evening dress.

As Flint looked at Winifred, he felt an absurd jealousy of the
monocled Englishman who presumed to show his admiration so plainly.
His reflections were ended for the time being by the voice of his
hostess saying, "Will you take my sister in to dinner?" As he moved
across the room, Winifred and Captain Blathwayt passed out together,
just ahead of Miss Wabash and himself. He scarcely knew whether to
feel regret or relief to find that the width of the table was to be
between him and Winifred. It certainly had the advantage of shutting
off all necessity for the conversation _farcie_ of the conventional
dinner, which he felt would be an impossibility between him and her
to-night.

With Miss Wabash the _vol-au-vent_ of talk seemed the most natural
thing; and Flint dashed at once into a jesting, somewhat daring tone,
which she took quite in good part, and when her attention was claimed
by the bald-headed broker on the other side, his neighbor on the left,
a double-chinned dowager, with a pearl necklace half hidden in the
creases of her neck and a diamond aigrette in her hair, proved no less
garrulous if somewhat less sprightly.

She had much to tell of the loss of her diamonds by a burglary last
week, and of their recovery through the agency of detectives whose
charges were exorbitant. She acquainted Flint with every detail of
the conduct of the family and the servants, the police and the
detectives. As she went on, people began to listen, and the talk
around the table, which had lagged a little, started up more briskly
than before.

"I have noticed," said Winifred to Captain Blathwayt, "that there are
two subjects which will make even dull people lively,--burglaries and
mind-cure."

"Aw, I don't know much about burglaries,--never had one in the family;
but I think a lot about mind-cure and all that sort of thing."

"Confirmation of my theory!" said Winifred, with an impertinence which
felt safe in banking on the lack of perception in the person whose
dignity was assailed.

"Do you believe in the mind-cure?" asked Miss Wabash, who had caught
the phrase across the table.

"It depends on the mind," Flint answered.

"Oh, no, it doesn't; not at all. That's the first principle of the
science. You only need to resign yourself and let the influence flow
over you."

"Does it make any difference whose influence it is?"

"Oh, I suppose so. It must be trained influence,