w much of New York they
had seen, and how they liked it, and whom they had met; but most of the
time she simply looked them over, and left the making of conversation
to Oliver. As for Montague, he sat, feeling perplexed and
uncomfortable, and wondering, deep down in him, whether it could really
be America in which this was happening.

"You see," Oliver explained to them, when they were seated in their
carriage again, "her mind is failing, and it's really quite difficult
for her to receive."

"I'm glad I don't have to call on her more than once," was Alice's
comment. "When do we know the verdict?"

"When you get a card marked 'Mrs. Devon at home,'" said Oliver. And he
went on to tell them about the war which had shaken Society long ago,
when the mighty dame had asserted her right to be "Mrs. Devon," and the
only "Mrs. Devon." He told them also about her wonderful dinner-set of
china, which had cost thirty thousand dollars, and was as fragile as a
humming-bird's wing. Each piece bore her crest, and she had a china
expert to attend to washing and packing it--no common hand was ever
allowed to touch it. He told them, also, how Mrs. Devon's housekeeper
had wrestled for so long, trying to teach the maids to arrange the
furniture in the great reception-rooms precisely as the mistress
ordered; until finally a complete set of photographs had been taken, so
that the maids might do their work by chart.

Alice went back to the hotel, for Mrs. Robbie Walling was to call and
take her home to lunch; and Montague and his brother strolled round to
Reggie Mann's apartments, to report upon their visit.

Reggie received them in a pair of pink silk pyjamas, decorated with
ribbons and bows, and with silk-embroidered slippers, set with
pearls--a present from a feminine adorer. Montague noticed, to his
dismay, that the little man wore a gold bracelet upon one arm! He
explained that he had led a cotillion the night before--or rather this
morning; he had got home at five o'clock. He looked quite white and
tired, and there were the remains of a breakfast of brandy-and-soda on
the table.

"Did you see the old girl?" he asked. "And how does she hold up?"

"She's game," said Oliver.

"I had the devil's own time getting you in," said the other. "It's
getting harder every day."

"You'll excuse me," Reggie added, "if I get ready. I have an
engagement." And he turned to his dressing-table, which was covered
with an array of cosmetics and per