e's no telling a United States
senator anything," retorted Miss Pinsett, with a keen glance from her
dimmed but penetrating eyes.

"As to that, I don't believe I'd ever have been a United States senator
if it wasn't for what you've told me, Miss Pinsett," laughed Endover.
"I'm always coming here to be taken down, Mary," he went on; "she does
it just as she used to."

Mary Leonard caught her breath a little at the sound of her Christian
name, but "I didn't know there was any taking you down, Tom Endover,"
she retorted before she thought; and they all laughed.

They found many things to say in the few minutes longer that they
stayed, before Mr. Endover took them out and put them in their cab. He
insisted upon coming the next morning to take them to the station in his
own carriage, and regretted very much that his wife was out of town, so
that she could not have the pleasure of meeting his old friends.

"He's just the same, isn't he?" exclaimed Mary Leonard, delightedly, as
they drove away.

"Yes," assented Lucy Eastman, slowly; "I think he is; and yet he's
different."

"Oh, yes, he's different," replied Mary Leonard, readily. Both were
quite unconscious of any discrepancy in their statements as they
silently thought over the impression he had made. He was the same
handsome, confident Tom Endover, but there was something gone,--and was
there not something in its place? Had that gay courtesy, that debonair
good fellowship, changed into something more finished, but harder and
more conscious? Was there a suggestion that his old careless charm had
become a calculated and a clearly appreciated facility? Lucy Eastman did
not formulate the question, and it did not even vaguely present itself
to Mary Leonard, so it troubled the pleasure of neither.

"What a day we have had!" they sighed in concert as they drove up again
to the entrance of the inn.

"Lucy," called Mary Leonard, a little later, from one of their
connecting rooms to the other, "I'm going to put on my best black net,
because Tom Endover may call to-night." Then she paused to catch Lucy
Eastman's prompt reply.

"And I shall put on my lavender lawn, but it'll be just our luck to have
it Samuel Hatt."

The next morning Mr. Endover called for them, and they were driven to
the station in his brougham.

He put them on the train, and bought the magazines for them, and waved
his hand to the car window.

"You know, Lucy," said Mary Leonard, as the train pulled