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CHAPTER III
A LUNCHEON PARTY

Luncheon parties were not then precisely what they are now; nevertheless the entertainment was extremely handsome. Lois and herfriend had first a long drive from their home in the country to a housein one of the older parts of the city. Old the house also was; but itwas after a roomy and luxurious fashion, if somewhat antiquated; andthe air of ancient respectability, even of ancient distinction, wasstamped upon it, as upon the family that inhabited it. Mrs. Wishart andLois were received with warm cordiality by Miss Caruthers; but theformer did not fail to observe a shadow that crossed Mrs. Caruthers'face when Lois was presented to her. Lois did not see it, and would nothave known how to interpret it if she had seen it. She is safe, thoughtMrs. Wishart, as she noticed the calm unembarrassed air with which Loissat down to talk with the younger of her hostesses.

"You are making a long stay with Mrs. Wishart," was the unpromisingopening remark.

"Mrs. Wishart keeps me."

"Do you often come to visit her?"

"I was never here before."

"Then this is your first acquain'tance with New York?"

"Yes."

"How does it strike you? One loves to get at new impressions of whatone has known all one's life. Nothing strikes us here, I suppose. Dotell me what strikes you."

"I might say, everything."

"How delightful! Nothing strikes me. I have seen it all five hundredtimes. Nothing is new."

"But people are new," said Lois. "I mean they are different from oneanother. There is continual variety there."

"To me there seems continual sameness!" said the other, with a halfshutting up of her eyes, as of one dazed with monotony. "They are allalike. I know beforehand exactly what every one will say to me, and howevery one will behave."

"That is not how it is at home," returned Lois. "It is different there."

"People are not all alike?"

"No indeed. Perfectly unlike, and individual."

"How agreeable! So that is one of the things that strike you here? thecontrast?"

"No," said Lois, laughing; "I find here the same variety that I findat home. People are not alike to me."

"But different, I suppose, from the varieties you are accustomed to athome?"

Lois admitted that.

"Well, now tell me how. I have never travelled in New England; I havetravelled everywhere else. Tell me, won't you, how those whom you seehere differ from the people you see at home."

"In the same sort of way that a sea-gull differs from a land sparrow,"

Lois answered demurely.

"I don't understand. Are we like the sparrows, or like the gulls?"

"I do not know that. I mean merely that the different sorts are fittedto different spheres and ways of life."

Miss Caruthers looked a little curiously at the girl. "I know this sphere," she said. "I want you to tell me yours."

"It is free space instead of narrow streets, and clear air instead ofsmoke. And the people all have something to do, and are doing it."

"And you think we are doing nothing?" asked Miss Caruthers, laughing.

"Perhaps I am mistaken. It seems to me so."

"O, you are mistaken. We work hard. And yet, since I went to school, Inever had anything that I must do, in my life."

"That can be only because you did not know what it was."

"I had nothing that I must do."

"But nobody is put in this world without some thing to do," said Lois."Do you think a good watchmaker would carefully make and finish a verycostly pin or wheel, and put it in the works of his watch to donothing?"

Miss Caruthers stared now at the girl. Had this soft, innocent-lookingmaiden absolutely dared to read a lesson to her? – "You are religious!"she remarked dryly.

Lois neither affirmed nor denied it. Her eye roved over the gatheringthrong; the rustle of silks, the shimmer of lustrous satin, the fallsof lace, the drapery of one or two magnificent camels'-hair shawls, thecarefully dressed heads, the carefully gloved hands; for the ladies didnot keep on their bonnets then; and the soft murmur of voices, which, however, did not remain soft. It waxed and grew, rising and falling, until the room was filled with a breaking sea of sound. Miss Caruthershad been called off to attend to other guests, and then came to conductLois herself to the dining-room.

The party was large, the table was long; and it was a mass of glitterand glisten with plate and glass. A superb old-fashioned épergne in themiddle, great dishes of flowers sending their perfumed breath throughthe room, and bearing their delicate exotic witness to the luxury thatreigned in the house. And not they alone. Before each guest's plate asemicircular wreath of flowers stood, seemingly upon the tablecloth; but Lois made the discovery that the stems were safe in water increscent-shaped glass dishes, like little troughs, which the flowerscompletely covered up and hid. Her own special wreath was ofheliotropes. Miss Caruthers had placed her next herself.

There were no gentlemen present, nor expected, Lois observed. It wassimply a company of ladies, met apparently for the purpose of eating; for that business went on for some time with a degree of satisfaction, and a supply of means to afford satisfaction, which Lois had never seenequalled. From one delicate and delicious thing to another she wasrequired to go, until she came to a stop; but that was the case, sheobserved, with no one else of the party.

"You do not drink wine?" asked Miss Caruthers civilly.

"No, thank you."

"Have you scruples?" said the young lady, with a half smile.

Lois assented.

"Why? what's the harm?"

"We all have scruples at Shampuashuh."

"About drinking wine?"

"Or cider, or beer, or anything of the sort."

"Do tell me why."

"It does so much mischief."

"Among low people," said Miss Caruthers, opening her eyes; "but notamong respectable people."

"We are willing to hinder mischief anywhere," said Lois with a smile ofsome fun.

"But what good does your not drinking it do? That will not hinderthem."

"It does hinder them, though," said Lois; "for we will not have liquorshops. And so, we have no crime in the town. We could leave our doorsunlocked, with perfect safety, if it were not for the people that comewandering through from the next towns, where liquor is sold. We have nocrime, and no poverty; or next to none."

"Bless me! what an agreeable state of things! But that need not hinderyour taking a glass of champagne here? Everybody here has no scruple, and there are liquor shops at every corner; there is no use in settingan example."

But Lois declined the wine.

"A cup of coffee then?"

Lois accepted the coffee.

"I think you know my brother?" observed Miss Caruthers then, making herobservations as she spoke.

"Mr. Caruthers? yes; I believe he is your brother."

"I have heard him speak of you. He has seen you at Mrs. Wishart's, Ithink."

"At Mrs. Wishart's – yes."

Lois spoke naturally, yet Miss Caruthers fancied she could discern acertain check to the flow of her words.

"You could not be in a better place for seeing what New York is like, for everybody goes to Mrs. Wishart's; that is, everybody who isanybody."

This did not seem to Lois to require any answer. Her eye went over thelong tableful; went from face to face. Everybody was talking, nearlyeverybody was smiling. Why not? If enjoyment would make them smile, where could more means of enjoyment be heaped up, than at this feast?Yet Lois could not help thinking that the tokens of realpleasure-taking were not unequivocal. She was having a very goodtime; full of amusement; to the others it was an old story. Of whatuse, then?

Miss Caruthers had been engaged in a lively battle of words with someof her young companions; and now her attention came back to Lois, whosemeditative, amused expression struck her.

"I am sure," she said, "you are philosophizing! Let me have the resultsof your observations, do! What do your eyes see, that mine perhaps donot?"

"I cannot tell," said Lois. "Yours ought to know it all."

"But you know, we do not see what we have always seen."

"Then I have an advantage," said Lois pleasantly. "My eyes seesomething very pretty."

"But you were criticizing something. – O you unlucky boy!"

This exclamation, and the change of tone with it, seemed to be calledforth by the entrance of a new comer, even Tom Caruthers himself. Tomwas not in company trim exactly, but with his gloves in his hand andhis overcoat evidently just pulled off. He was surveying the companywith a contented expression; then came forward and began a series ofgreetings round the table; not hurrying them, but pausing here andthere for a little talk.

"Tom!" cried his mother, "is that you?"

"To command. Yes, Mrs. Badger, I am just off the cars. I did not knowwhat I should find here."

"How did you get back so soon, Tom?"

"Had nothing to keep me longer, ma'am. Miss Farrel, I have the honourto remind you of a phillipoena."

There was a shout of laughter. It bewildered Lois, who could notunderstand what they were laughing about, and could as little keep herattention from following Tom's progress round the table. Miss Caruthersobserved this, and was annoyed.

"Careless boy!" she said. "I don't believe he has done the half of whathe had to do, Tom, what brought you home?"

Tom was by this time approaching them.

"Is the question to be understood in a physical or moral sense?" saidhe.

"As you understand it!" said his sister.

Tom disregarded the question, and paid his respects to Miss Lothrop.Julia's jealous eyes saw more than the ordinary gay civility in hisface and manner.

"Tom," she cried, "have you done everything? I don't believe you have."

"Have, though," said Tom. And he offered to Lois a basket of bon-bons.

"Did you see the carpenter?"

"Saw him and gave him his orders."

"Were the dogs well?"

"I wish you had seen them bid me good morning!"

"Did you look at the mare's foot?"

"Yes."

"What is the matter with it?"

"Nothing – a nail – Miss Lothrop, you have no wine."

"Nothing! and a nail!" cried Miss Julia as Lois covered her glass withher hand and forbade the wine. "As if a nail were not enough to ruin ahorse! O you careless boy! Miss Lothrop is more of a philosopher thanyou are. She drinks no wine."

Tom passed on, speaking to other ladies. Lois had scarcely spoken atall; but Miss Caruthers thought she could discern a little stir in thesoft colour of the cheeks and a little additional life in the gravesoft eyes; and she wished Tom heartily at a distance.

At a distance, however, he was no more that day. He made himselfgracefully busy indeed with the rest of his mother's guests; but afterthey quitted the table, he contrived to be at Lois's side, and asked ifshe would not like to see the greenhouse? It was a welcome proposition, and while nobody at the moment paid any attention to the two youngpeople, they passed out by a glass door at the other end of thedining-room into the conservatory, while the stream of guests went theother way. Then Lois was plunged in a wilderness of green leafage andbrilliant bloom, warm atmosphere and mixed perfume; her first breathwas an involuntary exclamation of delight and relief.

"Ah! you like this better than the other room, don't you?" said Tom.

Lois did not answer; however, she went with such an absorbed expressionfrom one plant to another, that Tom must needs conclude she liked thisbetter than the other company too.

"I never saw such a beautiful greenhouse," she said at last, "nor solarge a one."

"This is not much," replied Tom. "Most of our plants are in thecountry – where I have come from to-day; this is just a city affair.Shampuashuh don't cultivate exotics, then?"

"O no! Nor anything much, except the needful."

"That sounds rather – tiresome," said Tom.

"O, it is not tiresome. One does not get tired of the needful, youknow."

"Don't you! I do," said Tom. "Awfully. But what do you do forpleasure then, up there in Shampuashuh?"

"Pleasure? O, we have it – I have it – But we do not spend much time inthe search of it. O how beautiful! what is that?"

"It's got some long name – Metrosideros, I believe. What do you do forpleasure up there then, Miss Lothrop?"

"Dig clams."

"Clams!" cried Tom.

"Yes. Long clams. It's great fun. But I find pleasure all over."

"How come you to be such a philosopher?"

"That is not philosophy."

"What is it? I can tell you, there isn't a girl in New York that wouldsay what you have just said."

Lois thought the faces around the lunch table had quite harmonized withthis statement. She forgot them again in a most luxuriant trailingPelargonium covered with large white blossoms of great elegance.

"But it is philosophy that makes you not drink wine? Or don't you likeit?"

"O no," said Lois, "it is not philosophy; it is humanity."

"How? I think it is humanity to share in people's social pleasures."

"If they were harmless."

"This is harmless!"

Lois shook her head. "To you, maybe."

"And to you. Then why shouldn't we take it?"

"For the sake of others, to whom it is not harmless."

"They must look out for themselves."

"Yes, and we must help them."

"We can't help them. If a man hasn't strength enough to stand, youcannot hold him up."

"O yes," said Lois gently, "you can and you must. That is not much todo! When on one side it is life, and on the other side it is only aminute's taste of something sweet, it is very little, I think, to giveup one for the other."

"That is because you are so good," said Tom. "I am not so good."

At this instant a voice was heard within, and sounds of the servantsremoving the lunch dishes.

"I never heard anybody in my life talk as you do," Tom went on.

Lois thought she had talked enough, and would say no more. Tom saw shewould not, and gave her glance after glance of admiration, which beganto grow into veneration. What a pure creature was this! what a gentlesimplicity, and yet what a quiet dignity! what absolutely naturalsweetness, with no airs whatever! and what a fresh beauty.

"I think it must be easier to be good where you live," Tom addedpresently, and sincerely.

"Why?" said Lois.

"I assure you it ain't easy for a fellow here."

"What do you mean by 'good,' Mr. Caruthers? not drinking wine?" said

Lois, somewhat amused.

"I mean, to be like you," said he softly. "You are better than all therest of us here."

"I hope not. Mr. Caruthers, we must go back to Mrs. Wishart, orcertainly she will not think me good."

So they went back, through the empty lunch room.

"I thought you would be here to-day," said Tom. "I was not going tomiss the pleasure; so I took a frightfully early train, and despatchedbusiness faster than it had ever been despatched before, at our house.I surprised the people, almost as much as I surprised my mother andJulia. You ought always to wear a white camellia in your hair!"

Lois smiled to herself. If he knew what things she had to do at her ownhome, and how such an adornment would be in place! Was it easier to begood there? she queried. It was easier to be pleased here. The guestswere mostly gone.

"Well, my dear," said Mrs. Wishart on the drive home, "how have youenjoyed yourself?"

Lois looked grave. "I am afraid it turns my head," she answered.

"That shows your head is not turned. It must carry a good deal ofballast too, somewhere."

"It does," said Lois. "And I don't like to have my head turned."

"Tom," said Miss Julia, as Mrs. Wishart's carriage drove off and Tomcame back to the drawing-room, "you mustn't turn that little girl'shead."

"I can't," said Tom.

"You are trying."

"I am doing nothing of the sort."

"Then what are you doing? You are paying her a great deal ofattention. She is not accustomed to our ways; she will not understandit. I do not think it is fair to her."

"I don't mean anything that is not fair to her. She is worth attentionten times as much as all the rest of the girls that were here to-day."

"But, Tom, she would not take it as coolly. She knows only countryways. She might think attentions mean more than they do."

"I don't care," said Tom.

"My dear boy," said his mother now, "it will not do, not to care. Itwould not be honourable to raise hopes you do not mean to fulfil; andto take such a girl for your wife, would be simply ruinous."

"Where will you find such another girl?" cried Tom, flaring up.

"But she has nothing, and she is nobody."

"She is her own sweet self," said Tom.

"But not an advantageous wife for you, my dear. Society does not knowher, and she does not know society. Your career would be a much morehumble one with her by your side. And money you want, too. You need it,to get on properly; as I wish to see you get on, and as you wish ityour self. My dear boy, do not throw your chances away!"

"It's my belief, that is just what you are trying to make me do!" saidthe young man; and he went off in something of a huff.

"Mamma, we must do something. And soon," remarked Miss Julia. "Men aresuch fools! He rushed through with everything and came home to-day justto see that girl. A pretty face absolutely bewitches them." N. B.Miss Julia herself did not possess that bewitching power.

"I will go to Florida," said Mrs. Caruthers, sighing.

CHAPTER IV
ANOTHER LUNCHEON PARTY

A journey can be decided upon in a minute, but not so soon enteredupon. Mrs. Caruthers needed a week to make ready; and during that weekher son and heir found opportunity to make several visits at Mrs.Wishart's. A certain marriage connection between the families gave himsomewhat the familiar right of a cousin; he could go when he pleased; and Mrs. Wishart liked him, and used no means to keep him away. TomCaruthers was a model of manly beauty; gentle and agreeable in hismanners; and of an evidently affectionate and kindly disposition. Whyshould not the young people like each other? she thought; and thingswere in fair train. Upon this came the departure for Florida. Tom spokehis regrets unreservedly out; he could not help himself, his mother'shealth required her to go to the South for the month of March, and shemust necessarily have his escort. Lois said little. Mrs. Wishartfeared, or hoped, she felt the more. A little absence is no harm, thelady thought; may be no harm. But now Lois began to speak ofreturning to Shampuashuh; and that indeed might make the separation toolong for profit. She thought too that Lois was a little more thoughtfuland a trifle more quiet than she had been before this journey wastalked of.

One day, it was a cold, blustering day in March, Mrs. Wishart and herguest had gone down into the lower part of the city to do someparticular shopping; Mrs. Wishart having promised Lois that they wouldtake lunch and rest at a particular fashionable restaurant. Such anexpedition had a great charm for the little country girl, to whomeverything was new, and to whose healthy mental senses the ways andmanners of the business world, with all the accessories thereof, wereas interesting as the gayer regions and the lighter life of fashion.Mrs. Wishart had occasion to go to a banker's in Wall Street; she hadbusiness at the Post Office; she had something to do which took her toseveral furrier's shops; she visited a particular magazine of varietiesin Maiden Lane, where things, she told Lois, were about half the pricethey bore up town. She spent near an hour at the Tract House in NassauStreet. There was no question of taking the carriage into theseregions; an omnibus had brought them to Wall Street, and from therethey went about on their own feet, walking and standing alternately, till both ladies were well tired. Mrs. Wishart breathed out a sigh ofrelief as she took her seat in the omnibus which was to carry them uptown again.

"Tired out, Lois, are you? I am."

"I am not. I have been too much amused."

"It's delightful to take you anywhere! You reverse the old fairy-talecatastrophe, and a little handful of ashes turns to fruit for you, orto gold. Well, I will make some silver turn to fruit presently. I wantmy lunch, and I know you do. I should like to have you with me always,Lois. I get some of the good of your fairy fruit and gold when you arealong with me. Tell me, child, do you do that sort of thing at home?"

"What sort?" said Lois, laughing.

"Turning nothings into gold."

"I don't know," said Lois. "I believe I do pick up a good deal of thatsort of gold as I go along. But at home our life has a great deal ofsameness about it, you know. Here everything is wonderful."

"Wonderful!" repeated Mrs. Wishart. "To you it is wonderful. And to meit is the dullest old story, the whole of it. I feel as dusty now, mentally, as I am outwardly. But we'll have some luncheon, Lois, andthat will be refreshing, I hope."

Hopes were to be much disappointed. Getting out of the omnibus near thelocality of the desired restaurant, the whole street was found inconfusion. There had been a fire, it seemed, that morning, in a houseadjoining or very near, and loungers and firemen and an engine and hosetook up all the way. No restaurant to be reached there that morning.Greatly dismayed, Mrs. Wishart put herself and Lois in one of thestreet cars to go on up town.

"I am famishing!" she declared. "And now I do not know where to go.Everybody has had lunch at home by this time, or there are half-a-dozenhouses I could go to."

"Are there no other restaurants but that one?"

"Plenty; but I could not eat in comfort unless I know things are clean.

I know that place, and the others I don't know. Ha, Mr. Dillwyn!" —

This exclamation was called forth by the sight of a gentleman who justat that moment was entering the car. Apparently he was an oldacquain'tance, for the recognition was eager on both sides. The newcomer took a seat on the other side of Mrs. Wishart.

"Where do you come from," said he, "that I find you here?"

"From the depths of business – Wall Street – and all over; and now thedepths of despair, that we cannot get lunch. I am going home starving."

"What does that mean?"

"Just a contretemps. I promised my young friend here I would give hera good lunch at the best restaurant I knew; and to-day of all days, andjust as we come tired out to get some refreshment, there's a fire andfiremen and all the street in a hubbub. Nothing for it but to go homefasting."

"No," said he, "there is a better thing. You will do me the honour andgive me the pleasure of lunching with me. I am living at the'Imperial,' – and here we are!"

He signalled the car to stop, even as he spoke, and rose to help theladies out. Mrs. Wishart had no time to think about it, and on thesudden impulse yielded. They left the car, and a few steps brought themto the immense beautiful building called the Imperial Hotel. Mr.Dillwyn took them in as one at home, conducted them to the greatdining-room; proposed to them to go first to a dressing-room, but thisMrs. Wishart declined. So they took places at a small table, nearenough to one of the great clear windows for Lois to look down into theAvenue and see all that was going on there. But first the place whereshe was occupied her. With a kind of wondering delight her eye wentdown the lines of the immense room, reviewed its loftiness, itsadornments, its light and airiness and beauty; its perfection ofluxurious furnishing and outfitting. Few people were in it just at thishour, and the few were too far off to trouble at all the sense ofprivacy. Lois was tired, she was hungry; this sudden escape from dinand motion and dust, to refreshment and stillness and a softatmosphere, was like the changes in an Arabian Nights' enchantment. Andthe place was splendid enough and dainty enough to fit into one ofthose stories too. Lois sat back in her chair, quietly but intenselyenjoying. It never occurred to her that she herself might be a worthyobject of contemplation.

Yet a fairer might have been sought for, all New York through. She wasnot vulgarly gazing; she had not the aspect of one strange to theplace; quiet, grave, withdrawn into herself, she wore an air of mostsweet reserve and unconscious dignity. Features more beautiful might befound, no doubt, and in numbers; it was not the mere lines, nor themere colours of her face, which made it so remarkable, but rather themental character. The beautiful poise of a spirit at rest withinitself; the simplicity of unconsciousness; the freshness of a mind towhich nothing has grown stale or old, and which sees nothing in itsconventional shell; along with the sweetness that comes of habitualdwelling in sweetness. Both her companions occasionally looked at her;Lois did not know it; she did not think herself of sufficientimportance to be looked at.

And then came the luncheon. Such a luncheon! and served with a delicacywhich became it. Chocolate which was a rich froth; rolls which werepuff balls of perfection; salad, and fruit. Anything yet moresubstantial Mrs. Wishart declined. Also she declined wine.

"I should not dare, before Lois," she said.

Therewith came their entertainer's eyes round to Lois again.

"Is she allowed to keep your conscience, Mrs. Wishart?"

"Poor child! I don't charge her with that. But you know, Mr. Dillwyn,in presence of angels one would walk a little carefully!"

"That almost sounds as if the angels would be uncomfortablecompanions," said Lois.

"Not quite sans gêne" – the gentleman added, Then Lois's eyes met hisfull.

"I do not know what that is," she said.

"Only a couple of French words."

"I do not know French," said Lois simply.

He had not seen before what beautiful eyes they were; soft and grave, and true with the clearness of the blue ether. He thought he would likeanother such look into their transparent depths. So he asked,

"But what is it about the wine?"

"O, we are water-drinkers up about my home," Lois answered, looking, however, at her chocolate cup from which she was refreshing herself.

"That is what the English call us as a nation, I am sure mostinappropriately. Some of us know good wine when we see it; and most ofthe rest have an intimate acquain'tance with wine or some thing elsethat is not good. Perhaps Miss Lothrop has formed her opinion, andpractice, upon knowledge of this latter kind?"

Lois did not say; she thought her opinions, or practice, could havevery little interest for this fine gentleman.

"Lois is unfashionable enough to form her own opinions," Mrs. Wishartremarked.

"But not inconsistent enough to build them on nothing, I hope?"

"I could tell you what they are built on," said Lois, brought out bythis challenge; "but I do not know that you would see from that howwell founded they are."

"I should be very grateful for such an indulgence."

"In this particular case we are speaking of, they are built on twofoundation stones – both out of the same quarry," said Lois, her colourrising a little, while she smiled too. "One is this – 'Whatsoever yewould that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.' And theother – 'I will neither eat meat, nor drink wine, nor anything, bywhich my brother stumbleth, or is offended, or made weak.'"

Lois did not look up as she spoke, and Mrs. Wishart smiled withamusement. Their host's face expressed an undoubted astonishment. Heregarded the gentle and yet bold speaker with steady attention for aminute or two, noting the modesty, and the gentleness, and thefearlessness with which she spoke. Noting her great beauty too.

"Precious stones!" said he lightly, when she had done speaking. "I donot know whether they are broad enough for such a superstructure as youwould build on them." And then he turned to Mrs. Wishart again, andthey left the subject and plunged into a variety of other subjectswhere Lois scarce could follow them.

What did they not talk of! Mr. Dillwyn, it appeared, had latelyreturned from abroad, where Mrs. Wishart had also formerly lived forsome time; and now they went over a multitude of things and peoplefamiliar to both of them, but of which Lois did not even know thenames. She listened, however, eagerly; and gleaned, as an eagerlistener generally may, a good deal. Places, until now unheard of, tooka certain form and aspect in Lois's imagination; people were discerned, also in imagination, as being of different types and wonderfullydifferent habits and manners of life from any Lois knew at home, or hadeven seen in New York. She heard pictures talked of, and wondered whatsort of a world that art world might be, in which Mr. Dillwyn was somuch at home. Lois had never seen any pictures in her life which weremuch to her. And the talk about countries sounded strange. She knewwhere Germany was on the map, and could give its boundaries no doubtaccurately; but all this gossip about the Rhineland and its vineyardsand the vintages there and in France, sounded fascinatingly novel. Andshe knew where Italy was on the map; but Italy's skies, and soft air, and mementos of past times of history and art, were unknown; and shelistened with ever-quickening attention. The result of the whole atlast was a mortifying sense that she knew nothing. These people, herfriend and this other, lived in a world of mental impressions andmentally stored-up knowledge, which seemed to make their lifeunendingly broader and richer than her own. Especially the gentleman.Lois observed that it was constantly he who had something new to tellMrs. Wishart, and that in all the ground they went over, he was more athome than she. Indeed, Lois got the impression that Mr. Dillwyn knewthe world and everything in it better than anybody she had ever seen.Mr. Caruthers was extremely au fait in many things; Lois had thethought, not the word; but Mr. Dillwyn was an older man and had seenmuch more. He was terrifically wise in it all, she thought; and bydegrees she got a kind of awe of him. A little of Mrs. Wishart too. Howmuch her friend knew, how at home she was in this big world! what aplain little piece of ignorance was she herself beside her. Well, thought Lois – every one to his place! My place is Shampuashuh. Isuppose I am fitted for that.

"Miss Lothrop," said their entertainer here, "will you allow me to giveyou some grapes?"

"Grapes in March!" said Lois, smiling, as a beautiful white bunch waslaid before her. "People who live in New York can have everything, itseems, that they want."

"Provided they can pay for it," Mrs. Wishart put in.

"How is it in your part of the world?" said Mr. Dillwyn. "You cannothave what you want?"