She immediately sat down and talked constantly until noon of her family and especially of the heartlessness and general misconduct of her son and daughter-in-law because they had refused to let her apply the name of Divine Submission to the baby. It had been a hard blow to Mrs. Binks, because this was the one and only favor which she had ever asked of them. She reviewed the history of the Binkses from Ebenezer--the First--down to that present day. There had been three Divine Submissions in the family and they had made the name of Binks known wherever people knew anything. When Mrs. Wright left the room Mrs. Binks directed her conversation at me, and when Mrs. Wright returned I only got the spray of it. By dinner time we were drenched in a way of speaking and Mrs. Binks left, assuring us that she would return later and do anything in her power. "My stars!" Mrs. Wright exclaimed. "If you see her coming lock the door and go and hide in a closet until she goes away. Mrs. Binks always brings her ancestors with her and they fill the house so that there's no room for anybody else." When the day's work was ended Mrs. Wright exclaimed: "Thank goodness! the Binkses have not returned." We always referred to Mrs. Binks as the Binkses after that. Mrs. Jenison, a friend of the Wrights, came in that afternoon and told us of the visit of young Latour to Canton and of the great relief of the decent people at his speedy departure. "I wonder what brought him here," said Mrs. Wright. "It seems that he had heard of the beauty of Sally Dunkelberg. But a bee had stung her nose just before he came and she was a sight to behold." The ladies laughed. "It's lucky," said Mrs. Wright. "Doesn't Horace Dunkelberg know about him?" "I suppose he does, but the man is money crazy." I couldn't help hearing it, for I was working in the room in which they talked. Well, really, it doesn't matter much now. They are all gone. "Who is young Latour?" I asked when Mrs. Jenison had left us. "A rake and dissolute young man whose father is very rich and lives in a great mansion over in Jefferson County," Mrs. Wright answered. I wondered then if there had been a purpose in that drop of honey from the cup of the Silent Woman. I remember that the Senator, who returned to Canton that evening on the Watertown stage, laughed heartily when, as we were sitting by the fireside, Mrs. Wright told of the call of the Binkses. "The good lady enjoys a singular plurality," he remarked. "She enjoys it better than we do," said Mrs. Wright. The Senator had greeted me with a fatherly warmth. Again I felt that strong appeal to my eye in his broadcloth and fine linen and beaver hat and in the splendid dignity and courtesy of his manners. "I've had good reports of you, Bart, and I'm very glad to see you," he said. "I believe your own marks have been excellent in the last year," I ventured.