ented Lucas first to Mrs.
Gouverneur on a chair in the corner, and then bowed politely to the
geologist as he interrupted his remarks on the curiosities of the Bad
Lands, and made Lucas acquainted with Miss Callender. The latter showed
her pleasure at thus encountering a favorite writer, but she had the
good sense not to assure him that she had "long known him through his
books." She reflected in time that such a man must have heard remarks of
this sort rather frequently. But when Millard had moved away he turned
about to note the change in Miss Callender's countenance under the
influence of that stream of sparkling talk that Lucas never fails to
give forth when confronted with an inspiring listener.

Later in the evening when the reception had passed its climax, and the
antiquaries, geographers, historical investigators, and other lions,
grown sleepy, were looking up their wives and daughters to be gone,
Millard found time for conversation with his companion of the evening,
who had drifted away from her chaperon, for chaperonage only half
flourishes in our society, and is indeed quite out of place at a New
York lion soiree, where a maiden's heart is pretty safe without
guardianship.

"You have had a pleasant evening, Miss Callender, I hope. I'm sure
you've helped the rest of us to a pleasant evening."

"Indeed, I have enjoyed myself, Mr. Millard. I have met my favorite
poet, have talked with the editor of my magazine, and have found that
Mr. Lucas makes amends for the bores."

"I hope this will not be the last time we shall meet you in society,"
said Millard. "It would be a pity for one who can do so much to make an
evening delightful to others, not to go more into society."

"It takes a great deal of time, Mr. Millard. I don't think society any
harm as a recreation, but as a pursuit--" Here she checked herself.

"It gives a great deal of happiness, though."

"Yes; but only to those whose lot is fortunate enough anyhow. It seems
to me that we have something else to do in the world than just to amuse
ourselves." At this point it occurred to Phillida that in defending her
own view of life she was reflecting on her companion's. "I don't mean to
find fault with anybody else's pursuits, Mr. Millard, but rather to
defend my own."

The last remark, by focusing what she had said before upon Millard, only
made the matter worse. But the talk was interrupted at this point by
Mrs. Gouverneur, who came to inquire if her yo