Skinner found himself taking a sudden interest in the social chatter about him. It did not bore him now. Why had he always hated it so, he asked himself? Probably because he had never taken the trouble to understand it--but he was a rank outsider then. He began to wonder if social life were really so potent of good cheer, physical and mental refreshment. He began to realize that he had permitted himself to dislike a great institution because of a few butterflies whose chatter had offended him. But he now saw that important business men were social butterflies, at times. Surely, they must see something in it. And if these clever and able men saw something in it, then he, Skinner, must have been something of an ass to deny himself these things. When McLaughlin came up and greeted him cordially, McLaughlin seemed a changed man. His eyes were genial, and even his hair was conciliatory. And social intercourse had done that! "Gee whiz!" said Skinner to himself. And Honey! Skinner took a brand-new pride in her. She was radiantly happy, radiantly beautiful in a gown designed by a clever dress-builder to exploit every one of her charms. She was blooming like a rose whose bloom had been arrested by the sordid things of life. Honey had been "taken up." She was now the very center of a group of some of the "best" people there. By Jove, McLaughlin's wife had thrust her arm through Honey's and was leading her off to another group. As he watched her, Skinner felt that even sin--when undertaken for another--has its compensations! "Who is that very distinguished man over there?" said Mrs. J. Smith Crawford, the wife of the senior deacon of the First Presbyterian. Miss Mayhew adjusted her lorgnette. "_What_ very distinguished man?" "There's only one," replied Mrs. Crawford. "The man over there who looks like a cross between a poet and an athlete." "Oh, that's Skinner, of McLaughlin & Perkins, Inc. The Skinners are great friends of ours." As a matter of fact, Miss Mayhew had never taken the trouble to notice the Skinners, but now that Skinner had made an impression on the exclusive Mrs. Crawford, that altered the case. "I'm glad," said Mrs. Crawford. "Go get him." Skinner found Mrs. Crawford most engaging. She was neither haughty nor full of the pedantry with which social leaders try to disabuse the mind of the ordinary citizen that the rich must necessarily be dubs. Twenty minutes later, Deacon Crawford came up and Skinner was presented. "I'm mighty glad to know you, Mr. Skinner," said the deacon. "Some views I heard you expressing just now were quite in accord with my own." Skinner left the Crawfords presently with his head in the clouds. But he was brought down to earth by some one plucking him by the sleeve. "Gee, Skinner, where did you get it?" said Allison, who stood there in a sack suit, grinning. "Like it?" said Skinner, pleased. "You bet! It's a Jim Lulu!"