It did not seem possible during these bountiful years that the wolf would ever yelp in the steep cañons of the Greater City, or that steel, iron and coal could ever less magically change to gold. It was, indeed, inconceivable that the prosperous citizens would not forever disport themselves in the glittering hotels of New York and go on discovering, like so many Columbuses, the delights of London and Paris. Nowhere were these Midases more in evidence than on the transatlantic steamers, where their millions were computed in awed whispers by less favoured travellers and the stewards danced with unwonted alacrity in the confident hope of largess. “It’s our American habit”--Colonel Craighill was saying--“and not a bad trait, to believe our own state and our own city and our own quarter of the block where we live the most ideal place in the world. And this, Adelaide, is home!” Mrs. Blair flung off her wraps in the hall and went to the dining room to interview the maid about breakfast. She arranged with her own hands the roses she had sent for this first table, and, this accomplished to her satisfaction, she peered into the cabinet that held the best of her mother’s Sevres with a lingering regret that she had not made way with it while there was yet time; for Mrs. Blair was eminently human, and women are never so weak as before the temptation to loot. She heard her father’s voice above, describing to his wife the character of the upper chambers and she joined Wayne in the library where he stood in the bay window looking out upon the thinning boughs of the maples. “Well,” she exclaimed with a half sigh, “the worst is over.” “You’ve done bully, Fanny. You’ve risen to the occasion!” “Oh, it might be worse! It might be infinitely worse. What do you think of her?” “Oh, she’s not bad! I should call her a pretty woman.” “Well, she doesn’t seem to have much to say!” “No one can, Sis, when you get going. She remarked quite distinctly that she liked summer better than winter, and I thought she did well to get that in.” “Well, she was nice to the children, anyhow,” sighed Mrs. Blair, not heeding him. Steps were heard on the stair and in a moment Mrs. Craighill entered at her husband’s side. “I hope we haven’t kept you waiting. It’s so good of you to stop.” “Breakfast is served always at eight o’clock,” Mrs. Blair explained as they moved toward the dining room. “I was driven from my home by that rule. Father would never yield fifteen minutes even when I had been dancing all night.”