“Perhaps in some respects, Carter is right. You will find it very difficult to make classes mingle harmoniously; even in this republican country. Stronger and more experienced woman than you have tried it, and failed signally. A land that owns no aristocracy but that of wealth, will always draw sharp lines between the poor and the rich.” “But you do not object—you will help me out. I wish now it hadn’t been done; but one can’t take back an invitation; and Carter is very cruel to ask it; isn’t he?” “Of course you cannot take back an invitation. And I dare say your old friend will manage to appear well enough for the occasion. Society, since the war, has put up with a great many strange innovations. So, I have no doubt that your friend will pass.” “It’s kind of you to say so,” answered Mrs. Carter, with tears in her eyes. “As for Carter, his heart is like a millstone, since he became so rich. Oh, Herman! sometimes I wish we had been content as it was.” “Well, well, throw all these little troubles off your mind. I have something to tell you—something to propose. Perhaps a great favor to ask of you and Carter.” “It’s granted, Herman. I’d lay down my life for you; and so would Carter. He’s awful proud of having a real gentleman in the family. So am I—and that gentleman my own brother.” Ross reached out his hand, and drawing the kind-hearted woman toward him, kissed her on the cheek. “Now tell me what it is,” she questioned, cheerfully. “If it’s money——” Ross shook his head. “Not that! Not that!” “Dear! Dear! What can it be then? Just tell me.” “Not now. In a day or two.” “Another invitation for some one? Well, you shall have a whole handful of blanks, and fill them out yourself. Will that do?” “For the present, less than that will do, sister.” “Well, as many as you like, and anything else you like. Now I begin to feel better, and will go down to Carter, like the mistress of her own house.” With this heroic resolve, Mrs. Carter left the studio. CHAPTER XXVIII. YOUNG LAMBERT SPEAKS OUT. “Yes, mother, it is the truth; I have seen the young lady more than once.” “I know it, Ivon. You were seen walking by her side in the street.” Mrs. Lambert spoke calmly, but with a cold intonation of the voice that her step-son understood as something far more expressive than an outburst of anger; but his answer was as quiet as her question had been. “Once or twice I found myself on the same side-walk with the young lady to whom I have been properly introduced.” “Properly introduced! How can that be? There is no proper introduction between a shop-girl and a young gentleman of position and fortune,” replied the lady, with an angry flush on her cheeks. “Position, if you please; but as for the fortune, that depends—— I claim nothing on expectations. It would be arrogance if I did.’ “This is a sudden fit of humility, Ivon.”