"Possibly we may understand as much about the subject as the Professor himself." "Oh, how severe you are! Now I have great faith in the Professor's learning." "He ought to be learned. He certainly has no physical beauty." Mrs. Wyman laughed. "I suppose few learned men are handsome," she said. "Then perhaps I may console myself for having so little learning. Do you think the same rule holds good with ladies?" "To a certain extent. I am sure the principal of the seminary I attended was frightfully plain; but I am sure she was learned. Prof. Poppendorf, have you sold many lecture tickets?" "Quite a few!" answered the Professor, vaguely. "Are you going to attend the lecture, Miss Blagden?" asked the widow. "Miss Canby and I have agreed to go together." Miss Canby was the young woman from Macy's. The Disagreeable Woman finding that she wished to attend the lecture, offered her a ticket and her company, both being thankfully accepted. So that after all my escort was not needed by the young woman, and I lost nothing by my attention to the widow. We did not rise from the table till seven o'clock. Mrs. Wyman excused herself for a short time. She wished to dress for the lecture. The gentlemen withdrew to the reception room, a small and very narrow room on one side of the hall, and waited for the ladies to appear. Among those who seated themselves there was the Disagreeable Woman. She waited for the appearance of the young woman from Macy's, whom she was to accompany to the lecture. Somehow she did not seem out of place in the assemblage of men. "You did not at first propose to hear Prof. Poppendorf?" I remarked. "No; I shall not enjoy it. But I found Miss Canby wished to attend." "We shall probably know a good deal more about the Material and the Immaterial when we return." "Possibly we shall know as much as the Professor himself," she answered, quietly. "I am afraid you are no hero worshiper, Miss Blagden." "Do you refer to the Professor as a hero?" "He is the hero of this evening." "Perhaps so. We will see." Prof. Poppendorf looked into the reception room previous to leaving the house. He wore a long coat, or surtout, as it used to be called--tightly buttoned around his spare figure. There was a rose in his buttonhole. I had never seen one there before, but then this was a special occasion. He seemed in good spirits, as one on the eve of a triumph. He was content with one comprehensive glance. Then he opened the front door, and went out. Just then Mrs. Wyman tripped into the room, closely followed by Ruth Canby. The widow was quite radiant. I can't undertake to itemize her splendor. She looked like a social butterfly.