But the chatter and laughter were incessant now; so were the servants’ ministrations, and Edgerton was glad enough to give his arm to the faded little woman beside him and take her to her great, gilded chair in the drawing-room, and follow the men to another room, where blue smoke from cigars presently floated to the ceiling. Jack Rivett, rather too plump and smooth, moved into a chair beside Edgerton; and the latter, who had prejudged him from his appearance, was slightly surprised to find the youth widely read, widely traveled, with a mind and even a wit entirely his own, and an original but sometimes callow comment for any subject brought up. In a desultory conversation it presently transpired that young Rivett was a candidate for the Patroon’s Club. "You’re a member, I believe; are you not?" he asked Edgerton. "I have resigned." "Oh! I thought that was the one club from which nobody ever resigned. I beg your pardon, Edgerton!" he added, turning red; "don’t think me a cad." "No offense," smiled Edgerton; "I resigned because I couldn’t afford it. It’s a good club; hope you make it soon." "I hope I do.... But we’re rather recent additions—if we _are_ additions—to New York. You never can tell what New Yorkers will do to people like us," he added laughingly. "New York is practically composed of recent residents," said Edgerton, smiling. "They’re the most pitiless to newcomers. I wouldn’t be very much afraid if we had only your sort to encounter. If you old residents like a man, he gets his hat check ultimately, and passes in; but it lies with the sidewalk speculators now. The seats of the mighty are in their hands." Edgerton was much amused. "Not entirely," he said; "even we older residents are asked about now and then." "Into which of the three circles—Smart, Knickerbocker, or Old Testament?" Edgerton was laughing so frankly that Rivett senior turned his convex glasses on him; and, deciding that the laughter was genuine and not included in services, went on with his business conversation with a Mr. Snaith—a large, soft-skinned gentleman deeply immersed in oil and cotton. Colonel Curmew came over briskly, expelling smoke. "What are you youngsters playing this evening? Auction or Chinese Kahn?" "However, they choose to make up the tables," said Jack Rivett lazily. Then, as though on an after thought: "I doubt whether Mr. Edgerton bothers with cards; do you?" "I don’t mind, except that I’ve cut out playing for stakes," replied Edgerton, perfectly aware of Jack Rivett’s kindly consideration in giving him a chance to escape gracefully, and a trifle amused, too, that the young man should suppose he cared what anybody in the place might think of him. Servants were now arranging the old-fashioned colonial card tables in the noticeably old-fashioned colonial card room. A young girl or two appeared at the arched doorway, lingering on the threshold as several of the men came out to gossip.