For a year or two after the house was built Mrs. Polk had given magnificent entertainments, scattering her husband's dollars in a manner that made his thin nostrils twitch, and without the formality of his consent. Magdalena paused at a bend of the stair and tried to conjure up a brilliant throng in the dark hall below, the great doors of the parlours rolled back, the rooms flooded with the soft light of many candles; her aunt, long, willowy, of matchless grace, her marvellous eyes shooting scorn at the Americans crowding about her, standing against the gold-coloured walls in the blood-red satin she had shown once to her small admirers. But the vision would not rise. There was only a black well below, a rat crunching above. She reached the door of her aunt's private apartments on the second floor and entered. She stepped back amazed. There was no dust here, no musty air, no dimness of window. A fire burned on the hearth. The gas was lit and softly shaded. The vases on the mantel were full of flowers. On one table was a basket of fruit; on another were the illustrated periodicals. "Mrs. Polk is here?" she said to Ah Sin. "No, missee." "She is expected, then? How odd--" "Donno, missee. Evey day, plenty days, one, two, thlee weeks, me fixee rooms all same this." "But why?" "Kin sabbee, missee. Mr. Polk tellee me, and me do allee same whattee he say." Magdalena's lips parted, and her breath came short. She gave the necessary instructions about the picture. The Chinaman followed her down the stairs and opened the door. As she was passing out, she turned suddenly and said to him,-- "It is not necessary to tell Mr. Polk about this, nor that I have been here. He does not like to be bothered about little things." "Allight, missee." III The night of Mrs. Yorba's long-heralded ball had arrived at last. For weeks Society had been keenly expectant, for its greatest heiress and its three most beautiful girls were to come forth from the seclusion in which they were supposed to have been cultivating their minds, into the great world of balls, musicales, and teas, where their success would be in inverse ratio to their erudition. Rose and Caro had arrived the winter before, and were no longer "buds;" but Magdalena, Helena, Tiny, and Ila were hardly known by sight outside the Menlo Park set. Magdalena had never hung over the banisters at her mother's parties. The others had been abroad so long that the most exaggerated stories of their charms prevailed.