Mosely, manager at the time, was some five or six years older than Nathan,—a typical young New Yorker. His people were wealthy. His mother was somewhat of a society woman. Her son had “taken up” the woolen business and secured his present position through the influence of his father,—a retired banker and semi-invalid who was intimately acquainted with the Thornes. “Wife with you?” asked Mosely, as one afternoon’s consultation drew to a close. “Fine! Mother has a dinner affair on to-morrow night—not very big—just a few friends. Say, you and your wife run up and I’ll introduce you to a few fellows you’ll be doing business with if you get my place.” With the limitations of the provincial, Nathan was at once panic-stricken. Mosely did not add or explain that he intended to ask his mother to lay two more covers because he wanted to discern how far Nat had the ability to associate with certain metropolitan types which would be absolutely requisite to his success in the contemplated position. Nathan reluctantly accepted and hurried to the hotel to advise Milly. Milly was panic-stricken also,—but worse, far worse. She went weak all over and had to sit down. Then she declared it was impossible for her to go, she didn’t have a thing to wear. And when Nathan said she could have what money she desired to get anything she wanted, she came out flat-footed and confessed that she was “afraid to run with the swells” because she’d never know how to act and they might laugh at her. “Very well,” sighed Nathan. “But I must go—as a matter of business. You can go to a movie.” “What! Leave me all the evening alone in New York? And you off to a tony party, enjoying yourself?” “But what else is there to do? If you don’t want to go and don’t want to stay at home, just what do you want?” “I don’t want you to go, either. You could sneak out of it and go with me to a show. I don’t believe I’ll ever get my fill of shows in New York.” “Unfortunately I feel I ought to go, Milly. You’ve always talked about wanting to meet high-caste people and now when the chance is open, you’re half-frightened to death.” “You’re frightened too!” “I’ll not deny it—not frightened so much as nervous. But it’s a chance to go and learn something and show me what I lack. Those people can’t eat me and I intend to take it. If I’ve got to learn, now’s as good a time as any to start in.” Milly gave a nasty little chuckle. “And to think that once I thought you was my hero,” she observed, “as far above me in class as the stars!” “We won’t go into that, Milly. Do you care to go with me to this dinner to-morrow night or do you not?” “I’ll go,” snapped Milly, “but you needn’t blame me if I put my foot in it.” “Milly, did it ever strike you that you’re not trying to help me very much as my wife—to get on, I mean—holding up your end?” “I’m no different than I was when you married me! Kindly remember that!” “How can I forget it, Milly?”