THE INAUGURAL SOIREE. "Oh, Lord Silverdale," cried Lillie exultantly when he made his usual visit the next afternoon. "At last I have an unexceptional candidate. We shall get under weigh at last. I am so pleased because papa keeps bothering about that inaugural _soirée_. You know he is staying in town expressly for it. But what is the matter?--You don't seem to be glad at my news." "I am afraid you will be grieved at mine," he replied gravely. "Look at this in to-day's _Moon_." Sobered by his manner, she took the paper. Then her face grew white. She read, in large capitals: "The Old Maids' Club. "Interview with the President. "Sensational Stories of Skittish Spinsters. "Wee Winnie and Lillie Dulcimer." "I called at the Old Maids' Club yesterday," writes a _Moon_ woman, "to get some wrinkles, which ought to be abundant in such a Club, though they are not. Miss Dulcimer, the well-known authoress, is one of the loveliest and jolliest girls of the day. Of course I went as a candidate, with a trumped-up story about my unhappy past, which Miss Dulcimer will, I am sure, forgive me, in view of the fact that it was the only way of making her talk freely for the benefit of my readers." Lillie's eye glanced rapidly down the collection of distortions. Then she dropped the _Moon_. "This is outrageous," she said. "I can never forgive her." "Why, is this the candidate you were telling me about?" asked Silverdale in deeper concern. "I am afraid it is!" said Lillie, almost weeping. "I took to her so, we talked ever so long. Even Wee Winnie did not possess the material for all these inaccuracies." "What is this woman's name?" "Wilkins--I already called her Diana." "Diana?" cried Silverdale. "Wilkins? Great heavens, can it be?" "What is the matter?" "It must be. Wilkins has married his Diana. It was Mrs. Diana Wilkins who called upon you--not Miss at all." "What _are_ you talking about? Who are these people?" "Don't you remember Wilkins, the _Moon_-man that I was up in a balloon with? He was in a frightful quandary then about his approaching marriage. He did not know what to do. It tortured him to hear anyone ask a question because he was always interviewing people and he got to hate the very sound of an interrogation.--I told you about it at the time, don't you remember?--and he knew that marriage would bring into his life a person who would be sure to ask him questions after business hours. I was very sorry for the man and tried to think of a way out, but in vain, and I even promised him to bring the Old Maids' Club under the notice of his Diana. Now it seems he has hit on the brilliant solution of making her into a Lady Interviewer, so that her nerves, too, shall be hypersensitive to interrogatives, and husband and wife shall sit at home in a balsamic restfulness permeated by none but categorical propositions. Ah me! well, I envy them!" "You envy them?" said Lillie. "Why not? They are well matched."