She retired chuckling to herself, as she caught a glimmer of what was working in her son's mind. The "reading habit" having been inculcated by this lucky find at the library, it was not long before Nickey acquired from the same source a veritable collection of volumes on the polite arts and crafts--"The Ready Letter-Writer"; "Manners Maketh Man"; "Seven Thousand Errors of Speech;" "Social Culture in the Smart Set," and the like. Nickey laboriously studied from these authorities how to enter a ball room, how to respond to a toast at a dinner given in one's honor, how to propose the health of his hostess, and how to apologize for treading on a lady's train. In the secrecy of his chamber he put into practice the helpful suggestions of these invaluable manuals. He bowed to the washstand, begged the favor of the next dance from the towel rack, trod on the window shade and made the prescribed apology. Then he discussed the latest novel at dinner with a distinguished personage; and having smoked an invisible cigar, interspersed with such wit as accords with walnuts and wine, after the ladies had retired, he entered the drawing-room, exchanged parting amenities with the guests, bade his hostess good night, and gracefully withdrew to the clothes-press. Several times Hepsey caught glimpses of him going through the dumb show of "Social Culture in the Smart Set," and her wondering soul was filled with astonishment at his amazing evolutions. She found it in her heart to speak of it to Mrs. Betty and Maxwell, and ask for their interpretation of the matter. So, one day, during this seizure of feverish enthusiasm for self-culture, Hepsey and Nickey received an invitation to take supper at the rectory. Nevertheless, Mrs. Burke thought it prudent to give her son some good advice in regard to his behavior. She realized, perhaps, that a book is good so far as it goes, but is apt to ignore elementals. So she called him aside before they started: "Now, Nickey, remember to act like a gentleman, especially at the table; you must try to do credit to your bringin' up." "Yes, I'll do my level best if it kills me," the boy replied. "Well, what do you do with your napkin when you first sit down to the table?" "Tie it 'round my neck, of course!" "Oh, no, you mustn't do anything of the sort; you must just tuck it in your collar, like any gentleman would. And when we come home what are you goin' to say to Mrs. Maxwell?" "Oh, I'll say, 'I'll see you later.'" "Mercy no! Say, 'I've had a very nice time.'" "But suppose I didn't have a nice time,--what'd I say?" For a moment Hepsey struggled to reconcile her code of ethics with her idea of good manners, and then replied: "Why say, 'Mrs. Maxwell, it was awfully good of you to ask me,' and I don't believe she'll notice anything wrong about that." "Hm!" Nickey retorted scornfully. "Seems pretty much like the same thing to me." "Oh no! Not in the least. Now what will you wear when we go to the rectory?"