r seen are concerned,
peculiar to herself. She was rather slender, and had a calm, graceful
bearing that I somehow at once associated with purity and nobleness. She
was quite simply dressed, and had on a small widow's bonnet, with the
ribbons tied under her chin, while a charming little girl, whose hair
curled obstinately over her forehead, had hold of her hand.

I was somewhat surprised--I will not say disappointed exactly--to see
her lips break into a glad smile, though it made her face look all the
lovelier and sweeter, in reply to George's greeting; and when she came
toward us, as he beckoned her to do, every one immediately and gladly
made room for her to pass. Perry and I gave our seats to Mrs. Herbert
and her little girl; and I found myself speculating, as I leaned against
one of the pillars, on the difference of expression in the eyes of the
two, which were otherwise so much alike,--the same deep shade of brown,
the same soft look, the same lashes, and yet what a vast difference when
one thought of the combined effect of all these similar details. I spoke
to Perry of it, and he good-naturedly poked fun at me, saying I was
forever trying to see a romance or a history in people's eyes.

"Well, I suppose you will say she isn't even lovely," I exclaimed, with
impatience.

"I'm no judge," he replied, with exasperating carelessness; "but a
little too pale, I should say. I wish George hadn't introduced her to
me."

"Why?"

"Oh, it made me feel cheap to have to back into old Billy Gait's bony
legs and try to bow and shake hands before everybody,--in the eyes of
the assembled community, as Charley McWenn would say."

McWenn was the stupid block of a journalist,--for I do think him a
stupid block, in spite of his cleverness,--and I realized then that I
had forgotten for a moment all about Lucretia. I could not see her from
my new position, so I amused myself by imagining how she was carrying
on.

At last George and Mrs. Herbert rose up to go, and the former, as he
asked our forgiveness for leaving us, told us to come to his office when
we had enough of the Third House, and, if he wasn't there, to wait for
him. "We'll go over to Bertrand's and have some oysters," he said, with
his confidence-inspiring smile. I have always thought that if George had
not had so pleasant a smile and such a soulful laugh we should never
have been such friends.

We found him waiting for us at the foot of the Academy of Music stairs,