Some of the people went, and others came, with brief devoirs to Mrs. Maybough in the crepuscular corner where she sat. The tea circulated more and more; the babble rose and fell; it was all very curious to Cornelia, who had never seen anything like it before, and quite lost the sense of the day being Sunday. The stout lady's song had been serious, if not precisely devotional in character; but Cornelia could not have profited by the fact, for she did not know German. Mr. Plaisdell kept up his talk with Charmian, and she caught some words now and then that showed he was still speaking of his friend, or had recurred to him. "I'm rather dangerous when I get started on him. He's working out of his mannerisms into himself. He's a great fellow. I'm going to ask Mrs. Maybough." But he did not go at once. He drew nearer Cornelia, and tried to include her in the talk, but she was ashamed to find that she was difficult to get on common ground. She would not keep on talking Synthesis, as if that were the only thing she knew, but in fact she did not know much else in New York, even about art. "Ah!" he broke off to Charmian, with a lift of his head. "That's _too_ bad! There he comes now, with Wetmore!" Cornelia looked toward Mrs. Maybough with him. One gentleman was presenting another to Mrs. Maybough. They got through with her as quickly as most people did, and then they made their way toward Cornelia's table. She had just time to govern her head and hand into stony rigidity, when Wetmore came up with Ludlow, whom he introduced to Charmian. She was going to extend the acquaintance to Cornelia, but had no chance before Ludlow took Cornelia's petrified fingers and bowed over them. The men suppressed their surprise, if they had any, at this meeting as of old friends, but Charmian felt no obligation to silence. "Where in the world have you met before? Why, Cornelia Saunders, why didn't you say you knew Mr. Ludlow?" "I'm afraid I didn't give her time," Ludlow answered. "Yes, but we were just speaking of you--Mr. Plaisdell was!" said Charmian, with the injury still in her voice. "I didn't hear you speak of him," Cornelia said, with a vague flutter of her hands toward the teacups. The action seemed to justify Wetmore to himself in saying, "Yes, thank you, I _will_ have some tea, Miss Saunders, and then I'll get some one to introduce me to you. You haven't seen _me_ before, and I can't stand these airs of Ludlow's." He made them laugh, and Charmian introduced them, and Cornelia gave him his tea; then Charmian returned to her grievance and complained to Cornelia: "I thought you didn't know anybody in New York." "Well, it seems you were not far wrong," Wetmore interposed. "I don't call Ludlow much of anybody." "You don't often come down to anything as crude as that, Wetmore," Ludlow said. "Not if I can help it. But I was driven to it, this time; the provocation was great."