Mrs. Teunis Van Dam's calling card,
and sighed in vain; but Cora Shelby, who had heard of these yearnings,
thanked her God that she was not as other women are, and glanced at the
pasteboard with indifference.

"Yes; I suppose I'm at home," she said languidly, posturing for the
maid, and for a full half-hour left the august visitor waiting below
stairs while she turned the pages of a novel.

The influence of Mrs. Tommy Kidder had determined this petty course.
This sprightly young person, being herself a real social force, shared
little of the awe in which Mrs. Teunis Van Dam was held by most of her
townsfolk and by all newcomers, and Cora, with her own ideas of the
part which she, as the governor's wife, should play, had taken Mrs.
Tommy's frothy nonsense at rather more than its surface value. She was
more than ever alive to Mrs. Van Dam's importance--her grandson, the
military secretary, was an ever present reminder; but she cherished a
quickened sense of her own importance, too, and was vigilantly alert to
withstand any sign or symptom of what Mrs. Tommy called "Knickerbocker
domination."

Her first shaft, however, fell wide of the mark. Mrs. Van Dam serenely
assumed that her tardy hostess meant to pay her the compliment of a
more elaborate toilet, and employed the interval in an interested
survey of the changes wrought in the reception room's arrangement by
its new mistress. So absorbing did she find this occupation, that she
utterly missed the glacial temperature of Cora's greeting.

"I must congratulate you on resurrecting that bit of mahogany,"
declared the old lady, indicating a table. "I've missed that piece for
three administrations. Wherever did you find it?"

"Really, I can't remember," fibbed Cora, resolving straightway to
banish it.

The military secretary had suggested its restoration, and she jumped to
the conclusion that he had been inspired by his grandmother.

"It's a real link with the past," added Mrs. Van Dam, with a far-away
look in her eyes. "I can recall it as long ago as Governor Tilden's
time."

The great Mrs. Van Dam's cordiality thawed Cora in spite of herself,
and she was well in the way of unconditional surrender to her charm
when the caller cut straight into the pith of her errand.

"Without beating about the bush, my dear," she began, "I'm here on a
meddlesome business which you mustn't take amiss. As an old woman who
has seen something of the world in general, and much