On the day following John Saxton's introduction to the house, Evelyn was busy pouring oil on rusty places in the domestic machinery, when three cards were brought up to her bearing unfamiliar names. They belonged, she imagined, to some of the newer people of the town who had come to Clarkson during her years from home. "Mrs. Atherton?" she said inquiringly, pausing before the trio in the drawing-room. Two of the ladies looked toward the third, with whom Evelyn shook hands. "Miss Morris and Mrs. Wingate," murmured the lady identified as Mrs. Atherton. They all sat down. "It's so very nice to know that you are at home again," said Mrs. Atherton, "although I've not had the pleasure of meeting you before. I knew your mother very well, many years ago, but I have been away for a long time and have only recently come back to Clarkson. "It is very pleasant to be at home again," Evelyn responded. Mrs. Atherton smiled nervously and looked pointedly at her companions, evidently expecting them to participate in the conversation. The younger woman, who had been presented as Miss Morris, sat rigid in a gilt reception chair. She was of severe aspect and glared at Mrs. Atherton, who threw herself again into the breach. "I hope you do not dislike the West?" Mrs. Atherton inquired of Evelyn. "No, indeed! On the other hand I am very proud of it. You know I am a native here, and very loyal." Miss Morris seized this as if it had been her cue, and declared in severe tones: "We of the West are fortunate in living away from the artificiality of the East. There is some freedom here; the star of empire hovers here; the strength of the nation lies in the rugged but honest people of the great West, who gave Lincoln to the nation and the nation to Liberty." There was a glitter of excitement in the woman's eyes, but she spoke in low monotonous tones. Evelyn thought for a moment that this was conscious hyperbole, but Miss Morris's aspect of unrelenting severity undeceived her. Something seemed to be expected of her, and Evelyn said: "That is all very true, but, you know, they say down East that we are far too thoroughly persuaded of our greatness and brag too much." "But," continued Miss Morris, "they are coming to us more and more for statesmen. Look at literature! See what our western writers are doing! The most vital books we are now producing are written west of the Alleghanies!" "You know Miss Morris is a writer," interrupted Mrs. Atherton. "We should say Doctor Morris," she continued, with a rising inflection on the title,--"not an M.D. Miss Morris is a doctor of philosophy." "Oh," said Evelyn. "What college, Doctor Morris?"