“She is nothing but a baby,” said Mrs. Forest. “The count has certainly a right to choose his acquaintances. My dear, I fear you did a very unwise thing”—thrown away your chances, she would have said, if she had expressed her thought exactly. Leila was puzzled. This was a new phase of her mother’s character, or new, at least, to her, and she replied, a little sourly, “Of course he has a right to choose his acquaintances; but supposing he had been riding with the child’s mother? Why, I should have felt insulted if he had recognized me.” “Oh, now you are merely foolish. He would not do such a thing.” “Why not? The child is no better than the mother, is she?” Mrs. Forest assumed an icy silence. Linnie, to whom her sister soon conveyed the intelligence of the meeting in the park, took a very different ground. “You did right, sis,” she said; “for if you had accepted the invitation against your sense of propriety, he would have read your mind like a book, and despised you for it, as he will now, no doubt, for your airs.” “Well, that’s a comforting dilemma, I must say.” “I don’t care, Leila. The truth is, Susie was not treated well, nor Clara either. I like Susie. I’ve been there, lately, ever so many times, though you needn’t tell mamma.” “Goodness me! I thought so. You’re infected with the Forest radicalism too. I wonder what _you’ll_ come to?” “A sensible person, I think. I mean to. I would not have refused to ride with the count. I should respect any one he chose to honor. Now you are smitten with him; you can’t deny it. But I can tell you one thing: he’s just as radical as papa is.” “Well, men don’t like radical women for wives. They never choose them; and if they do, they don’t like them long.” “You mean Clara. Now, Miss Wisdom, I’ll give you a little file to gnaw: There are three Forest girls in the market, or will be when Dr. Delano gets his divorce; and if either of the three ever becomes the Countess Von Frauenstein, it will _not_ be the least radical one.” “Well, I’m sure _I_ don’t want the honor.” “No, I understand exactly how afflicted you would be, if he should ask you. Poor child! I hope you _will_ be spared that blow!” And Linnie laughed in the most exasperating way. Min was in a fever of delight during the ride. During the first part of it the count had given her a very charming version of Aladdin; and when he drove back to the town, he led her like a queen into the finest ice-cream saloon, and seating her in a chair, took his place opposite to her and said, as he removed his hat and gloves, “Now, my golden-haired mistress, what will you have? Remember, I am your Slave of the Lamp.” “Well, my Slave of the Lamp,” she answered, gayly, “I should like some chocolate lady-fingers, and some strawberry ice-cream, and some cocoa-nut pie, and some almonds, and—”