a famous stage-beauty had lately given her name; and I am afraid her black lace skirts were crinolined in the height of the fashion. But the young man thought she looked like Juno--Juno with a bustle! They had been talking about Doctor Vardaman. "The doctor's really awfully fond of his queer old things," J. B. remarked. "If you show the least interest--and it's not put on with me, I _am_ interested--he'll take you around, and explain to you who all the big-bugs, his ancestors in the portraits were, and what they did, and tell you about his first editions, and the old wine he's got laid away, and the autograph-letters to his grandfather from Benjamin Franklin and all the rest of it." "How odd!" said Muriel. "Yes, I suppose it's funny to you, but you see over here we don't have all that the way you do. People aren't used to seeing it about them all the time. I expect that's the reason Huddesley fits in with the doctor so well; he cares for everything and understands--the way old family-servants do in novels you know. He's so English----" "No, he isn't," said Muriel decidedly. "You think so, but none of you _know_. Nobody talks like that at home." "Well, not nice people of course, but servants----" "No, not servants either. He's no more like a real servant at home than our stage-Yankees are like you." "You've never come into contact with his class much, I guess," said J. B., remembering that the treatment accorded servants varies widely. "Everything is different with us; now the doctor likes to make him talk. We're all going down there to dinner Friday night, did you know it?" "What, all of us? Why, that's the night we----" "No, only the men, I mean. The doctor told Mrs. Pallinder he'd like to have us, and he thought maybe she'd just as lief we were out of the house, while all of you were getting ready for the performance. There are so many of us, you know, for 'William Tell.' Some of the fellows have sent their clothes out to his house, and are going to dress there." Muriel looked at him timidly. He was unconsciously opening a door for the entrance of that all-important topic; she was not quick, however, and besides she was in doubt whether--whether it would be quite proper for her to speak to him about it at all! Next moment the opportunity was gone. "If we get everybody in a good humour with the first performance, they won't care if 'Mrs. Tankerville' _is_ a little rocky," J. B. observed sagely. "Teddy isn't so good as _Jenks the butler_. He's not--not convincing. Ted doesn't look as if he could steal a potato, let alone a hatful of diamonds. And then he hasn't the chances to be funny there are in 'Tell.' Nobody knows their part yet, and here the thing's set for Friday!" "I'm rather sure of myself all except one place," Muriel said. "We've been going so we haven't had much time to study."