stern wilds with an amazing accumulation
of money and a demand that your three nieces become your special
_protegees_. And what is the result?"

The little man looked up with a charming smile of good humored raillery.
His keen gray eyes sparkled as mischievously as a schoolboy's. Softly he
rubbed the palms of his hands together, as if enjoying the situation.

"What is it, Martha, my dear? What is the result?" he asked.

"You've raised them from their lowly condition to a sphere in which they
reign as queens, the envy of all who know them. You've lavished your
millions upon them unsparingly; they are not only presumptive heiresses
but already possessed of independent fortunes. Ah, you think you've been
generous to these girls; don't you, John Merrick?" "Go on, Martha; go
on."

"You've taken them abroad--you took my own daughter, John Merrick, and
left _me_ at home!--you've lugged your three nieces to the mountains and
carried them to the seashore. You even encouraged them to enlist in an
unseemly campaign to elect that young imbecile, Kenneth Forbes, and--"

"Oh, Martha, Martha! Get to the point, if you can. I'm going,
presently."

"Not until you've heard me out. You've given your nieces every advantage
in your power save one, and the neglect of that one thing renders futile
all else you have accomplished."

Now, indeed, her listener seemed perplexed. He passed a hand over his
shiny bald head as if to stimulate thought and exorcise bewilderment.

"What is it, then? What have I neglected?" was his mild enquiry.

"To give those girls their proper standing in society."

He started; smiled; then looked grave.

"You're talking foolishly," he said. "Why, confound it, Martha, they're
as good girls as ever lived! They're highly respected, and--" "Sir, I
refer to Fashionable Society." The capitals indicate the impressive
manner in which Mrs. Merrick pronounced those words.

"I guess money makes folks fashionable; don't it, Martha?"

"No, indeed. How ignorant you are, John. Can you not understand that
there is a cultured, aristocratic and exclusive Society in New York that
millions will not enable one to gain _entree_ to?"

"Oh, is there? Then I'm helpless."

"You are not, sir."

"Eh? I thought you said--"

"Listen, John; and for heaven's sake try for once to be receptive. I am
speaking not only for the welfare of my daughter Louise but for Beth
and Patricia. Your nieces are charming girls, all three. With th