I imagine this talk of yours is all hot air,
and worked off on me not because the girls want society, but because you
want it for 'em. It's all _your_ ambition, I'll bet a peanut."

"You misjudge me, as usual, John. I am urging a matter of simple
justice. Your nieces are lovely girls, fitted to shine in any sphere of
life," she continued, knowing his weak point and diplomatically
fostering it. "Our girls have youth, accomplishments, money--everything
to fit them for social triumphs. The winter season is now approaching;
the people are flocking back to town from their country homes;
fashionable gaieties and notable events will soon hold full sway. The
dear girls are surely entitled to enjoy these things, don't you think?
Aren't they _worthy_ the best that life has to offer? And why shouldn't
they enter society, if you do your full duty? Once get them properly
introduced and they will be able to hold their own with perfect ease.
Give me the credit for knowing these things, John, and try to help your
nieces to attain their ambition."

"But _is_ it their ambition?" he asked, doubtfully.

"They have not said so in words; but I can assure you it _is_ their
ambition, because all three are sensible, spirited, young women, who
live in this age and not the one you yourself knew a half century or so
ago."

Mr. Merrick sighed and rubbed his head again. Then he slowly rose.

"Mornin', Martha," he said, with a somewhat abstracted nod at his
sister-in-law. "This is a new idea to me. I'll think it over."

CHAPTER II

A QUESTION OF "PULL"

John Merrick's face was not so cheery as usual as he made his way into
the city. This suggestion of Martha Merrick's regarding his inattention
to duty to his beloved nieces was no easy nut to crack.

He knew his sister-in-law to be a wordly-minded, frivolous woman, with
many trivial ambitions; but in this instance he had misgivings that she
might be right. What did he, John Merrick, know of select society? A
poor man, of humble origin, he had wandered into the infantile, embryo
West years ago and there amassed a fortune. When he retired and returned
to "civilization" he found his greatest reward In the discovery of three
charming nieces, all "as poor as Job's turkey" but struggling along
bravely, each in her individual characteristic way, and well worthy
their doting uncle's affectionate admiration. Mrs. Merrick had recited
some of the advantages they had derived from the advent of