gham pressed Mr. Belcher's arm, an action which said: "Oh,
the jealous creature!"

They went from painting to painting, and sculpture to sculpture, and
then, over a cabinet of bric-a-brac, she quietly led the conversation to
Mr. Belcher's prospective occupation of the Palgrave mansion. She had
nothing in the world to do. She should be so happy to assist poor Mrs.
Belcher in the adjustment of her housekeeping. It would be a real
pleasure to her to arrange the furniture, and do anything to help that
quiet country lady in inaugurating the splendors of city life. She knew
all the caterers, all the confectioners, all the modistes, all the city
ways, and all the people worth knowing. She was willing to become, for
Mrs. Belcher's sake, city-directory, commissionaire, adviser, director,
everything. She would take it as a great kindness if she could be
permitted to make herself useful.

All this was honey to the proprietor. How Mrs. Dillingham would shine in
his splendid mansion! How she would illuminate his landau! How she would
save his quiet wife, not to say himself, from the _gaucheries_ of which
both would be guilty until the ways of the polite world could be
learned! How delightful it would be to have a sympathetic friend whose
intelligent and considerate advice would be always ready!

When the gentlemen returned to the drawing-room, and disturbed the
confidential _tete-a-tete_ of these new friends, Mrs. Dillingham
declared it was time to go, and Mr. Belcher insisted on seeing her home
in his own carriage.

The dinner party broke up with universal hand-shakings. Mr. Belcher was
congratulated on his magnificent purchase and prospects. They would all
be happy to make Mrs. Belcher's acquaintance, and she really must lose
no time in letting them know when she would be ready to receive
visitors.

Mr. Belcher saw Mrs. Dillingham home. He held her pretty hands at
parting, as if he were an affectionate older brother who was about to
sail on a voyage around the world. At last he hurriedly relinquished her
to the man-servant who had answered her summons, then ran down the steps
and drove to his hotel.

Mounting to his rooms, he lit every burner in his parlor, and then
surveyed himself in the mirror.

"Where did she find it, old boy? Eh? Where did she find it? Was it the
figure? Was it the face? Hang the swallow tails! Must you, sir, come to
such a humiliation? How are the mighty fallen! The lion of Sevenoaks in
the skin of