She ought to see the girls he had met, and whose brothers were in his class—tip-top girls, and up-to-date; wore big hats and tailor gowns and smoked cigarettes, some of them. He didn’t quite like that, of course, but then—well—a lot of girls did it, and one must keep in the swim. The Merivale boys called him a snob, and he mentally called them country clowns and kept mostly to himself so far as they were concerned. He saw Louie often, but did not hesitate to criticise her whenever she failed to come up to the standard of the tip-top girls with tailor gowns and big hats. Sometimes Louie took his criticisms meekly, and sometimes turned upon him furiously, telling him to go to his tip-top girls, who smoked cigarettes, and leave her alone. On the whole, however, she was very happy and very proud of him, and longed to have it known that he belonged to her. But at any suggestion of this kind Herbert resolutely shook his head. One year had passed quickly, he said, and three more would pass quicker, when, if she had had enough of Bryn Mawr and Greek and Latin, she would be his, and his arguments prevailed to quiet Louie, if not to convince her. CHAPTER XII MR. GREY It was now nearly a year since the great run, as it was called. The story of the part Louie had in it had gotten abroad, and at first the people had some misgivings with regard to the solidity of a bank which, but for the novel help given it, might have toppled over. But this feeling gradually died out, and the National came up like a strong ship out of a storm which had scarred, but not weakened it. Many of its patrons returned to it, and others didn’t. Godfrey Sheldon still held his grudge, and two thousand dollars of his money still reposed, or were supposed to repose, in the Grey Bank, which gave no sign of bursting up, as the judge had predicted it would. To all human appearances, Mr. Grey was more prosperous than ever, and no one in Merivale spent money as freely as he did. He gave to everything; he drove a finer carriage than Judge White, and his bays were far handsomer than the judge’s blacks. His coachman wore a dark grey livery and tall hat. He had made his wife a Christmas present of an exquisite set of diamonds; Louie had a new Steinway, which cost seven hundred dollars, and a diamond ring whose value was estimated anywhere from three hundred to five hundred dollars. There were frequent visits to Boston and New York, where the family stopped at the Touraine and the Waldorf. There was to be a trip to Narragansett Pier for the month of August, and a suite of rooms was engaged at one of the most expensive hotels. For this trip several costumes were being made in Boston and Worcester for Mrs. Grey and Louie, who, Mr. Grey said, should not be behind anyone in dress, if money could buy it.