“For our society people,” observed Morton, on that September occasion, “are migratory, like the wild geese they so much resemble. At this time they are leaving Newport for the country, don't y' know. They will not be found in town until the frost.” Now, when the snow and Morton appeared together, I recalled our conversation. I at once concluded that his visit had somewhat to do with our drawing-room designs. Nor was I in the wrong. “But first,” said he, when in response to my question he had confessed as much, “let us decide another matter. Business before pleasure; the getting of money should have precedence over its dissipation; it should, really! I am about to build a conduit, don't y' know, the whole length of Mulberry, and I desire you to ask your street department to take no invidious notice of the enterprise. You might tell your fellows that it wouldn't be good form.” “But your franchise does not call for a conduit.” “We will put it on the ground that Mulberry intends a change to the underground trolley--really! That will give us the argument; and I think, if needs press, your Corporation Counsel can read the law that way. He seems such a clever beggar, don't y' know!” “But what do you want the conduit for?” “There's nothing definite or sure as yet. My notion, however, is to inaugurate an electric-light company. The conduit, too, would do for telephone or telegraph, wires. Really, it's a good thing to have; and my men, when this beastly weather softens a bit, might as well be about the digging. All that's wanted of you, old chap, is to issue your orders to the department people to stand aloof, and offer no interruptions. It will be a great asset in the hands of Mulberry, that conduit; I shall increase the capital stock by five millions, on the strength of it.” “Your charter isn't in the way?” “The charter contemplates the right on the part of Mulberry to change its power, don't y' know. We shall declare in favor of shifting to the underground trolley; although, really, we won't say when. The necessity of a conduit follows. Any chap can see that.” “Very well!” I replied, “there shall be no interference the city. If the papers grumble, I leave you and them to fight it out.” “Now that's settled,” said Morton, producing his infallible cigarette, “let us turn to those social victories we have in contemplation. I take it you remain firm in your frantic resolutions?” “I do it for the good of my child,” said I. “As though society, as presently practiced,” cried Morton, “could be for anybody's good! However, I was sure you would not change. You know the De Mudds? One of our best families, the De Mudds--really! They are on the brink of a tremendous function. They'll dine, and they'll dance, and all that sort of thing. They've sent you cards, the De Mudds have; and you and your daughter are to come. It's the thing to do; you can conquer society in the gross at the De Mudds.”