“Mrs. _Bo_-gardus thinks that if you can only afford one servant you should certainly engage _two_, for there is nothing that pays so well as style.” She also “thought” a great many other things,—I can’t pause to relate them here,—and no matter how patently absurd her opinions might be, they were reported as such Delphic utterances that no one dreamed of questioning them. Every fortnight or so Mrs. Hudson has been in the habit of paying Mrs. _Bo_-gardus a call. One always learned at the breakfast table when one of these visits was about to take place, for Mrs. Hudson dressed for them upon rising, no matter what time of day she may have planned to start, in a purple velvet walking-suit, with white linen collar and cuffs, and a very much crimped blond false front. Her own hair is decidedly gray. When she goes to church, or shopping with Miss Brown, or even to the theatre, this answers. It is only for Mrs. _Bo_-gardus the blond crimps appear. Naturally this morning when Mrs. Hudson descended upon us “in full panoply of war-paint,” as Haze expressed it, we supposed she must be going to pay one of her ceremonial visits. Both mother and I felt relieved, for the house continued cold despite all our efforts; but we made no remark, and Mrs. Hudson volunteered no information till Rose appeared, rather untidy as to dress and apron, bearing a plate of slightly burned biscuits. Then it began. “Mrs. _Bo_-gardus’s establishment consists of three maids and an imported butler. His name is Samuels,—with an _s_, if you please, Miss Brown. One can judge from that fact alone of the style to which she is accustomed.” “Yes, indeed,” murmured Miss Brown. “Now, anything like _this_,” continued Mrs. Hudson, helping herself to a biscuit and weighing it accusingly on extended palm, “simply wouldn’t _sit_ on Mrs. _Bo_-gardus’s stummick. She is used to lunching at Sherry’s or the Waldorf, every day, if she pleases. However, I have warned her she must expect to find things different _here_. She is fully prepared; for I explained everything when I issued my invitation.” “Mrs. _Bo_-gardus! _here_!” exclaimed mother, setting down the cream jug with undue suddenness; while Mr. Hancock, who had been morosely weighing his biscuit in servile imitation of Mrs. Hudson, dropped it into his coffee cup, and stared with popping eyes. “Yes,” returned Mrs. Hudson, evidently very well satisfied with the impression she was producing. “Haven’t I mentioned that I am expecting a visit from Mrs. _Bo_-gardus to-day? She is coming to lunch with me. It seemed about time I should repay some of her hospitality. I hope my little plan in no way inconveniences any one?” Haze kicked me under the table. Ernie wriggled ecstatically. Robin sighed, and opened wide, shining eyes; while poor Miss Brown murmured feebly,— “Mrs. Hudson! Mrs. _Bo_-gardus! oh really!” Mother was the first to regain her composure.