“I must say,” said Belle Trevors, “that dear Lillie does astonish me. Now, I shouldn’t want to have that dissipated Danforth lounging in my rooms every day, as he does in Lillie’s: and then taking her out driving day after day; for my part, I don’t think it’s respectable.” “Why don’t you speak to her?” said Lottie Cavers. “Oh, my dear! she wouldn’t mind _me_. Lillie always was the most imprudent creature; and, if she goes on so, she’ll certainly get awfully talked about. That Danforth is a horrid creature; I know all about him.” As Miss Belle had herself been driving with the “horrid creature” only the week before Lillie came, it must be confessed that her opportunities for observation were of an authentic kind. Lillie, as queen in her own parlor, was all grace and indulgence. Hers was now to be the sisterly _rôle_, or, as she laughingly styled it, the maternal. With a ravishing morning-dress, and with a killing little cap of about three inches in extent on her head, she enacted the young matron, and gave full permission to Tom, Dick, and Harry to make themselves at home in her room, and smoke their cigars there in peace. She “adored the smell;” in fact, she accepted the present of a fancy box of cigarettes from Danforth with graciousness, and would sometimes smoke one purely for good company. She also encouraged her followers to unveil the tender secrets of their souls confidentially to her, and offered gracious mediations on their behalf with any of the flitting Newport fair ones. When they, as in duty bound, said that they saw nobody whom they cared about now she was married, that she was the only woman on earth for them,—she rapped their knuckles briskly with her fan, and bid them mind their manners. All this mode of proceeding gave her an immense success. [Illustration: “And would sometimes smoke one purely for good company.”] But, as we said before, all this was talked about; and ladies in their letters, chronicling the events of the passing hour, sent the tidings up and down the country; and so Miss Letitia Ferguson got a letter from Mrs. Wilcox with full pictures and comments; and she brought the same to Grace Seymour. “I dare say,” said Letitia, “these things have been exaggerated; they always are: still it does seem desirable that your brother should go there, and be with her.”