Mazie Pallinder's visit to her relatives, the Lees and Randolphs, was prolonged until the Easter holidays, which came the last week in March that spring. It is a fact, verified by solid paragraphs of "newspaper gabble," that she _was_ visiting people of those high-sounding and brilliantly suggestive names, and moving amongst the elect. The family must have been well connected on the Pallinder side at any rate--who or what the Botlisch clan were, no one would like to think. We missed Mazie. Mrs. Pallinder went about alone to teas and receptions, smiling steadily in her beautiful clothes that she wore with so dignified a grace, and reporting that she and the colonel were having a kind of ridiculous honeymoon time of it by themselves, no one calling, no banjos humming in the parlour, no impromptu little dances, no hordes of girls doing one another's hair, and munching nougat all day long in Mazie's room, no prowling about the ice-chest at midnight for chicken salad and champagne. "The house is as quiet as a funeral," she humorously complained. "All our young men have deserted us, except Mr. Peters, who comes, I think, out of sheer humanity. My mother goes to bed very early, and there the colonel and I sit by the fire like two old fogies until we fall asleep in our chairs. The other night we actually went to bed at nine o'clock. Sometimes Doctor Vardaman comes up and we have a game of cribbage. Positively I don't know why we don't take root where we sit, and grow fast to the spot like plants. On the whole this restful time may be good for the colonel. He's been so immersed in business and those Eastern men, those rich, grasping creatures, do _drive_ him so. I often say to him, 'Oh, William, never mind the money. Haven't you made enough by this last deal in Phosphate to satisfy you _yet_?' I never ask any more how much he _did_ make--I don't know anything about business, and it frightens me to think of him handling such big sums, and taking such risks and responsibilities. He gave me this ring the other day, though, so I know that whatever it was, the venture turned out all right. Isn't it a beauty? Of course, I'm not sorry he's making money, but, oh, Mrs. Lawrence, our husbands work too hard--all our men work too hard--it's not worth it. A few thousands less would content us, and what we want more than anything else in the world is to have them in good health. Shall I put you down here? Oh, I'm pleased you like this little brougham; I had it lined with the dark green cloth because, to tell the truth, I thought I would look better with my fair hair against a dark green background than if it were maroon or deep blue. Don't laugh, my dear, there're tricks in all trades, and it's a woman's trade to look her best. Home, James!"