he tables, and
that nasty, cold, cheap felt under your feet. Not that _I_ mind how
a house is furnished." (She did very much. Her one and only object in
life seemed to be to lade her own mansion with ugly and expensive
upholstery.) "Now, what's the matter, Miss Peters? Why, you are all on
wires. Where _are_ you off to now?"

"I see the Rector," responded Miss Peters. "I'll run and ask him when he
expects Mrs. Bertram. I'll be back presently with the news."

The little lady tripped away, forcing her slim form through the
ever-increasing crowd. The rector was walking about with a very favorite
small parishioner seated on his shoulder.

"Mr. Ingram," piped Miss Peters. "Don't you think Mrs. Bertram might
favor us with her presence by now? We have all been looking for her.
It's past five o'clock, and--"

There was a hush, a pause. At that moment Mrs. Bertram was sailing into
the room. Miss Peters' exalted tones reached her ears. She shuddered,
turned pale, and also turned her back on the eager little spinster.

Nobody quite knew how it was managed, but Mrs. Bertram was introduced to
very few of the Northbury folk. They all wanted to know her; they talked
about her, and came in her way, and stared at her whenever they could.
There was an expectant hush when she and the Rector were seen
approaching any special group.

"I do declare it's the Grays she's going to patronize," one jealous
matron said.

But the Grays were passed over just as sedulously as the Joneses and the
Smiths. Excitement, again and again on the tenter-hooks, invariably came
to nothing. Even Mrs. Gorman Stanley, who had sat on Mrs. Bertram's
sofa, and condemned her felt carpet was only acknowledged by the most
passing and stately recognition. Little chance had the poor lady of
effecting other introductions; she realized for the first time that she
was only a quarter introduced to the great woman herself.

The fact was this: There was not a soul in Northbury, at least there was
not an acknowledged soul who could combat Mrs. Bertram's will. She had
made up her mind to talk to no one but Mr. Ingram at the bazaar. She
carried out her resolve, and that though the Rector had formed such
pleasant visions of making every one cheerful and happy all round, for
he knew the simple weaknesses and desires of his flock, and saw not the
smallest harm in gratifying them. Why should not the Manor and the town
be friendly?

Mrs. Bertram saw a very good reason why the