host, they were chatting
over the news of the day.

It is probable that the great city was never the scene of a personal
introduction that gave more quiet amusement to an assemblage of guests
than that of the presentation of Mr. Belcher. That gentleman's first
impression as he entered the room was that Talbot had invited a company
of clergymen to meet him. His look of surprise as he took a survey of
the assembly was that of a knave who found himself for the first time in
good company; but as he looked from the gentlemen to the ladies, in
their gay costumes and display of costly jewelry, he concluded that they
could not be the wives of clergymen. The quiet self-possession of the
group, and the consciousness that he was not _en regle_ in the matter of
dress, oppressed him; but he was bold, and he knew that they knew that
he was worth a million of dollars.

The "stiff upper lip" was placed at its stiffest in the midst of his
florid expanse of face, as, standing still, in the center of the room,
he greeted one after another to whom he was presented, in a way
peculiarly his own.

He had never been in the habit of lifting his hat, in courtesy to man or
woman. Even the touching its brim with his fingers had degenerated into
a motion that began with a flourish toward it, and ended with a suave
extension of his palm toward the object of his obeisance. On this
occasion he quite forgot that he had left his hat in the hall, and so,
assuming that it still crowned his head, he went through with eight or
ten hand flourishes that changed the dignified and self-contained
assembly into a merry company of men and women, who would not have been
willing to tell Mr. Belcher what they were laughing at.

The last person to whom he was introduced was Mrs. Dillingham, the lady
who stood nearest to him--so near that the hand flourish seemed absurd
even to him, and half died in the impulse to make it. Mrs. Dillingham,
in her black and her magnificent diamonds, went down almost upon the
floor in the demonstration of her admiring and reverential courtesy, and
pronounced the name of Mr. Belcher with a musical distinctness of
enunciation that arrested and charmed the ears of all who heard it. It
seemed as if every letter were swimming in a vehicle compounded of
respect, veneration, and affection. The consonants flowed shining and
smooth like gold-fish through a globe of crystal illuminated by the sun.
The tone in which she spoke the name seemed t