'What an air she said that with!' thought Mrs. Diggs. 'And one year ago, at Coney Island, she was unknown, unnoticed.' The whole repast was exquisite. While it lasted, Claire never once spoke to the butler. He needed no orders; everything was done as well and as silently as it could be done. In his way he was an irreproachable artist, like the invisible _chef_ below stairs, who had evoked this blameless dinner from the chaos of the uncooked. Just at the end of dessert, Claire said to her guest: "Shall you take coffee?" "Oh, dear, no," replied Mrs. Diggs; "I don't even dare. I'm nervous enough as it is." But Claire had coffee, black as ink, and served to her in a tiny cup as thin as a rose-leaf. Presently the two friends became aware that they were alone. The butler had gone without seeming to go. Like a mysterious _au revoir_ he had left behind him two crystal finger-bowls, with a slim slice of lemon floating in each. Claire had finished her coffee. She rose and leaned toward the flowers in the centre of the table. As her fingers played among them they seemed to break, almost of their own accord, into two separate bunches. She went round to Mrs. Diggs and gave her one of these, retaining the other. Presently each had made for herself an impromptu _corsage_. Mrs. Diggs had not spoken for several minutes; she had indeed been abnormally quiet ever since the butler's departure. The calm, graceful splendor of it all had awed her. It had such a finish, such a choiceness, such gentle dignity of execution. "Shall we sit near the fire?" asked Claire, as together they moved from the table. "Or would you prefer one of the drawing-rooms?" "The fire is so lovely," said Mrs. Diggs. "Let's sit here." She dropped into a chair as she spoke. Claire also seated herself, not far from the fire, though a little distance away from her friend. Suddenly the flood-gates of Mrs. Diggs's enthusiasm burst open. She had considerable silence to make up for. "Oh, Claire," she exclaimed, "it's just _perfect!_ I don't see how you do it! I don't see where on earth you got the experience from! If I had seven times your money _I_ couldn't begin to have my household machinery move in this delightful, well-oiled way. My servants would steal; my _chef_ would get drunk; my magnificence would all go awry; I'm sure it would!" Claire laughed. "I'm very composed about it all," she said. "I keep quite cool. I like it, too. There is a great deal in that. I don't mean management so much as the superintendence of others' management. I'm a sort of born overseer." "You're a born leader." Mrs. Diggs was looking at her very attentively now. "And how capably you _are_ leading! How you've carried your point, Claire! I observe you, and absolutely marvel! I can't realize that you are really and truly _my_ Coney Island Claire, don't you know? You've shot up so. You're so mighty. It's like a dream." "It's a very pleasant dream."