se conditions, however, so perilous to the foreigner, are a source
of strength and security to those native to them. An uncertain
acquaintance may be so effectually involved in the meshes of such a
cousinship, as never to be heard of outside of it and tremendous
stories are told of people who have spent a whole winter in Boston, in
a whirl of gaiety, and who, the original guests of the Suffolks,
discover upon reflection that they have met no one but Essexes and
Middlesexes.

Mrs. Corey's brother James came first into her mind, and she thought
with uncommon toleration of the easy-going, uncritical, good-nature of
his wife. James Bellingham had been the adviser of her son throughout,
and might be said to have actively promoted his connection with Lapham.
She thought next of the widow of her cousin, Henry Bellingham, who had
let her daughter marry that Western steamboat man, and was fond of her
son-in-law; she might be expected at least to endure the paint-king and
his family. The daughters insisted so strongly upon Mrs. Bellingham's
son Charles, that Mrs. Corey put him down--if he were in town; he might
be in Central America; he got on with all sorts of people. It seemed
to her that she might stop at this: four Laphams, five Coreys, and four
Bellinghams were enough.

"That makes thirteen," said Nanny. "You can have Mr. and Mrs. Sewell."

"Yes, that is a good idea," assented Mrs. Corey. "He is our minister,
and it is very proper."

"I don't see why you don't have Robert Chase. It is a pity he
shouldn't see her--for the colour."

"I don't quite like the idea of that," said Mrs. Corey; "but we can
have him too, if it won't make too many." The painter had married into
a poorer branch of the Coreys, and his wife was dead. "Is there any
one else?"

"There is Miss Kingsbury."

"We have had her so much. She will begin to think we are using her."

"She won't mind; she's so good-natured."

"Well, then," the mother summed up, "there are four Laphams, five
Coreys, four Bellinghams, one Chase, and one Kingsbury--fifteen. Oh!
and two Sewells. Seventeen. Ten ladies and seven gentlemen. It
doesn't balance very well, and it's too large."

"Perhaps some of the ladies won't come," suggested Lily.

"Oh, the ladies always come," said Nanny.

Their mother reflected. "Well, I will ask them. The ladies will
refuse in time to let us pick up some gentlemen somewhere; some more
artists. Why! we must have Mr. Seymour, t