"Why, not so badly as if I were really in society; as, you know, I'm not! The only place where any man, but especially a society man, can properly seek a girl's society is in society. The more he's worthy to meet her, the more hopelessly--I needn't say hopelessly, but completely--he's cut off from meeting her any other way. Isn't that a gay situation? Ha-ha-ha!" "You would probably move much in society, even Creole society, without meeting mademoiselle; she has less time for it than you." "Is that so?" Cupid, the evening before, had carried a flat, square parcel like a shop's account-books to be written up under the home lamp. Staring at Landry, Chester rather dropped the words than spoke them: "Think of it! The awful pity! For the like of her! Of her! Why, how on earth--? No, don't tell! I know what I'd think of any other man following in her wake and asking questions while hard fortune writes her history. A girl like her, Landry, has no business with a history!" "Mr. Chester." "Yes?" "Has that 'Memorandum' never been printed? I can find out for you, in _Poole's Index_." "Do it! It's good enough, and it's named as if to be printed. See? 'The Angel of----'" "Then why not have Mr. Castanado, while selecting a publisher for mademoiselle's manuscript, select for both?" Chester shone: "Why--why, happy thought! I'll consider that, indeed I will! Well, good mor'----" "Mr. Chester." "Well?" "Why did you want that new book yesterday?" "I've met that nice old man the book calls 'the judge,' and he's coaxed me to break my rules and dine with him, at his home uptown, to-night." "I'm glad. Madame, his wife, was my young mistress when I was a slave. I wish her granddaughter and his grandson--they also are married--were not over in the war--Red Cross. You'd like them--and they would like you." "Do they know mademoiselle?" "Indeed, yes! They are the best of her very few friends. But--the Atlantic rolls between." Chester went out. In the rear door Ovide's wife appeared, knitting. "Any close-ter?" she asked over her silver-bowed spectacles. "Some," he said, taking down _Poole's Index_. She came to his side and they placidly conversed. As she began to leave him, "No," she said, "we kin wish, but we mustn' meddle. All any of us want' or got any rights to want is to see 'em on speakin' terms. F'om dat on, hands off. Leave de rest to de fitness o' things, de everlast'n' fitness o' things!" VII At the Castanados', the second evening after, Chester was welcomed into a specially pretty living-room. But he found three other visitors. Madame, seated on a sort of sofa for one, made no effort to rise. Her face, for all its breadth, was sweet in repose and sweeter when she spoke or smiled. Her hands were comparatively small and the play of her vast arms was graceful as she said to a slim, tallish, comely woman with an abundance of soft, well-arranged hair: "Seraphine, allow me to pres-ent Mr. Chezter."