At these expressions, uttered with all the emphasis a whisper will allow, I just hugged myself in my quiet corner. The dear, giddy things! But they should see, they should see. "I fear"--it was Mr. Van Burnam who now spoke--"I shall have to take my sisters from under your kind care to-day. Their father needs them, and has, I believe, already engaged rooms for them at the Plaza." "I am sorry," I replied, "but surely they will not leave till they have had another meal with me. Postpone your departure, young ladies, till after luncheon, and you will greatly oblige me. We may never meet so agreeably again." They fidgeted (which I had expected), and cast secret looks of almost comic appeal at their brother, but he pretended not to see them, being disposed for some reason to grant my request. Taking advantage of the momentary hesitation that ensued, I made them all three my most conciliatory bow, and said as I retreated behind the portière: "I shall give my orders for luncheon now. Meanwhile, I hope the young ladies will feel perfectly free in my house. All that I have is at their command." And was gone before they could protest. When I next saw them, they were upstairs in my front room. They were seated together in the window and looked miserable enough to have a little diversion. Going to my closet, I brought out a band-box. It contained my best bonnet. "Young ladies, what do you think of this?" I inquired, taking the bonnet out and carefully placing it on my head. I myself consider it a very becoming article of headgear, but their eyebrows went up in a scarcely complimentary fashion. "You don't like it?" I remarked. "Well, I think a great deal of young girls' taste; I shall send it back to Madame More's to-morrow." "I don't think much of Madame More," observed Isabella, "and after Paris----" "Do you like La Mole better?" I inquired, bobbing my head to and fro before the mirror, the better to conceal my interest in the venture I was making. "I don't like any of them but D'Aubigny," returned Isabella. "She charges twice what La Mole does----" Twice! What are these girls' purses made of, or rather their father's! "But she has the _chic_ we are accustomed to see in French millinery. I shall _never_ go anywhere else." "We were recommended to her in Paris," put in Caroline, more languidly. Her interest was only half engaged by this frivolous topic. "But did you never have one of La Mole's hats?" I pursued, taking down a hand-mirror, ostensibly to get the effect of my bonnet in the back, but really to hide my interest in their unconscious faces. "Never!" retorted Isabella. "I would not patronize the thing." "Nor you?" I urged, carelessly, turning towards Caroline. "No; I have never been inside her shop." "Then whose is----" I began and stopped. A detective doing the work I was, would not give away the object of his questions so recklessly.