e visits with
Lydia, but his wife declared with emphasis that she didn't care who went
or didn't go so long as she herself saw that Lydia did not take to
star-gazing again. It ended by all four proceeding down the street
together.

"You're sure you remember everything, Lydia?" asked her mother.

"Let me see," said the girl, laughing nervously. "Do I? The Governor's
wife is his second, so I'm to waste no time admiring the first set of
children. They're Methodists, so I'm to keep quiet about our being
Episcopalians--"

"I guess we're not Episcopalians enough to hurt," commented her father,
who had never taken the conversion of his women-folks very seriously.

"And it's my pink crepe for dinner and tan-colored suit if they have
afternoon tea. And Mrs. Mallory is to be asked to visit us, but not her
daughter, because of her impossible husband, and I'm to play my
prettiest to the Governor, because he's always needing dynamos and such
in the works, and Paul--"

The big car came booming around the corner, and she stopped her category
of recommendations. The doctor rushed in with a last one as they stepped
hurriedly toward the rear platform: "And don't forget that your host is
the most unmitigated old rascal that ever stood in with two political
machines at once."

The Judge swung her up on the platform, the doctor gave her valise to
the conductor, her mother waved her hand, and she was off.

The two men turned away. Not so Mrs. Emery. She was staring after the
car in a fierce endeavor to focus her gaze on the interior. "Who was
that man that jumped up so surprised to speak to Lydia?"

"I didn't notice anybody," said the Judge.

Dr. Melton spoke quickly. "Lydia's getting in a very nervous state, my
friends; I want you to know that. This confounded life is too much for
her."

"She doesn't kill herself getting up in the morning," complained her
father. "It is a month now since I've seen her at breakfast."

"I don't _let_ her get up," said Mrs. Emery. "I guess if you'd been up
till two every morning dancing split dances because you were _the_ belle
of the season, you'd sleep late! Besides," she went on, "she'll be all
right as soon as her engagement is announced. The excitement of that'll
brace her up."

"Good Lord! It's not more excitement she needs," began Dr. Melton; but
they had reached the house, and Mrs. Emery, obviously preoccupied,
pulled her husband quickly in, dismissing the doctor with a nod.

She drew