eat deal, and lived on the ancient respectability of their
family. They talked much about "the old New Yorkers," and of the inroads
and devastations of the parvenu. They were thoroughly posted on old
family estates and mansions, the intermarriages of the Dutch
aristocracy, and the subject of heraldry. Mr. Schoonmaker made a hobby
of old Bibles, and Mrs. Schoonmaker of old lace. The two hobbies
combined gave a mingled air of erudition and gentility to the pair that
was quite impressive, while their unquestionably good descent was a
source of social capital to all of humbler origin who were fortunate
enough to draw them to their tables.

Next came the Tunbridges. Mr. Tunbridge was the president of a bank, and
Mrs. Tunbridge was the president of Mr. Tunbridge--a large, billowy
woman, who "brought him his money," according to the speech of the town.
Mr. Tunbridge had managed his trust with great skill, and was glad at
any time, and at any social sacrifice, to be brought into contact with
men who carried large deposit accounts.

Next in order were Mr. and Mrs. Cavendish. Mr. Cavendish was a lawyer--a
hook-nosed, hawk-eyed man, who knew a little more about everything than
anybody else did, and was celebrated in the city for successfully
managing the most intractable cases, and securing the most princely
fees. If a rich criminal were brought into straits before the law, he
always sent for Mr. Cavendish. If the unprincipled managers of a great
corporation wished to ascertain just how closely before the wind they
could sail without being swamped, they consulted Mr. Cavendish. He was
everywhere accounted a great lawyer by those who estimated acuteness to
be above astuteness, strategy better than an open and fair fight, and
success more to be desired than justice.

It would weary the reader to go through with a description of Mrs.
Talbot's dinner party in advance. They were such people as Mr. and Mrs.
Talbot naturally drew around them. The minister was invited, partly as a
matter of course, and partly to occupy Mr. Schoonmaker on the subject of
Bibles. The doctor was invited because Mrs. Talbot was fond of him, and
because he always took "such an interest in the family."

When Mr. Belcher arrived at Talbot's beautiful but quiet house, the
guests had all assembled, and, clothing their faces with that veneer of
smile which hungry people who are about to dine at another man's expense
feel compelled to wear in the presence of their