"Oh, Jeemy! What a story! But go get your dances, dear, if we're not going to stay for supper. Here's Mrs. Thayer to amuse me," said Julia, as a magnificent old woman came toward her with a smile. "Not dancing, dear?" said the dowager, as she sank heavily into the seat Jim left. "Whyn't you dancing with the other girls? I"--she panted and fanned, idly scanning the room--"I tell Brownie I don't know how he gets the men!" she added, "lots of 'em; supper brings 'em, probably! Whyn't you dancing, dear?" "She's implying that her ankle was sprained," Jim grinned, departing. Julia dimpled. The dowager brought an approving eye to bear upon her. "Well--well, you don't say so? Now that's very nice indeed," she said comfortably; "well, I declare! I hadn't heard a word of it--and you're glad, of course?" "Oh, very glad!" Julia assured her, colouring. "That's nice, too!" Mrs. Thayer rumbled on, her eyes beginning again to rove the room. "Fuss, of course, and lots of trouble, but you forget all that! Yes, I love children myself, used to be the most devoted mother alive, puttin' 'em to bed, and all that, yes, indeed!" "You had two?" Julia hazarded. The dowager gave her a surprised glance. "I, me dear? I had five--Rose there, that's Mrs. St. John, and Kate, you know her? Mrs. Willis, and my boy that's in Canada now, and the boy I lost, and Lillian--Lily we called her, she was only three. Diphtheria." "Oh!" Julia said, shocked. "Yes, indeed, I thought it would break Colonel Thayer's heart," pursued Mrs. Thayer, fanning regally, and watching the room. "She was the first--Lily would be nearly forty now! Look, Julia, who is that with Isabel Wallace? Who? Oh, yes, Mary Chauncey. See if you can see her husband anywhere. I'd give a good deal to know if she came with him!" "Mrs. Thayer," said Julia presently, "how long have you been coming to the Brownings?" "I? Oh, since they were started, child. There was a little group of us that used to dance round at each other's houses, then some of the men got together and formed a little club--Brownie was one of them. The Saunders used to come. Ella was about eighteen, and Sally and Anna Toland, and the Harts, and the Kirkwoods. Who's that with young Brice, Julia, me dear? Peter Coleman, is it?" "Talking to Mr. Carter, yes, that's Mr. Coleman. He's a beautiful dancer," said Julia. "Peter is? Yes, well, then, why don't you--But you're not dancing, of course," Mrs. Thayer said. "There's Gordon Jones and his wife! Why Brownie ever let them in I don't--Ah, Ella, how are you, dear?" "Fine, thank you!" said the newcomer, a magnificent woman of perhaps forty, in a very beautiful gown. "How do you do, Mrs. Studdiford?" she added cordially, as she sat down. "Dancing, surely?" "Now she's got the best reason in the world for not dancing," said old Mrs. Thayer, with a protective motion of her fan.