an carry this
through together, you and I, Miss Callender," he said.

"What can I do?" asked Phillida, opening her large, dark eyes with
innocent surprise. "I know nobody."

"You can get Mrs. Gouverneur's countenance, perhaps. That will be a
great deal for Mrs. Hilbrough hereafter."

"Perhaps I can get it, with your help, Mr. Millard. My aunt is good
hearted, but she has queer notions. She has a great opinion of the
social importance of her family." And Mrs. Gouverneur's niece laughed in
a way which went to show that she treated with some levity her aunt's
estimate of the value of ancestry.

"One couldn't avoid being proud of such forefathers," answered Millard.

"Perhaps she will help if I ask her. She is very obliging to me--I
belong to the royal family too, you know," she said archly.

"Together we can get her to lend her influence to Mrs. Hilbrough," said
Millard, "or at least to attend the reception. And I think I know how
the whole thing can be managed."

"I am so glad, and so much obliged to you, Mr. Millard," said Phillida,
a gleam of enthusiastic feeling, almost childlike, suddenly showing
itself through the grave exterior. This little revelation of the self
shut within the disciplined self without puzzled Millard and piqued the
curiosity he felt to understand what manner of young girl this was,
habitually so self-mastered, and apparently so full of unknown power or
of unawakened sensibilities. An apprehension of potencies undeveloped in
Miss Callender gave her new acquaintance the feeling of an explorer who
stands on the margin of a land virgin and unknown, eager to discover
what is beyond his sight. For Millard's main interest in life lay in the
study of the personalities about him, and here was one the like of which
he had never seen. The social naturalist had lighted on a new genus.

Mrs. Hilbrough returned with her husband, and Millard explained to her
that a certain Baron von Pohlsen, a famous archaeologist, was at that
time in Mexico studying the remains of Aztec civilization with the view
of enriching the pages of his great work on the "Culturgeschichte" of
the ancient Americans. He was to return by way of New York, where his
money had been remitted to the Bank of Manhadoes, and he had been
socially consigned to Mr. Millard by a friend in Dresden. Pohlsen was
obliged to observe some economy in traveling, and had asked Millard to
find him a good boarding-house. If Mrs. Hilbrough cared to receive