associate, using an upward tilt of the head, a tired droop of the eyelids, and a fine upward arching of the brows to indicate how trite it all was. It was a Mrs. Henry Huddlestone who had pointed out Mrs. Merrill to Aileen. Mrs. Huddlestone was the wife of a soap manufacturer living very close to the Cowperwoods’ temporary home, and she and her husband were on the outer fringe of society. She had heard that the Cowperwoods were people of wealth, that they were friendly with the Addisons, and that they were going to build a two-hundred-thousand-dollar mansion. (The value of houses always grows in the telling.) That was enough. She had called, being three doors away, to leave her card; and Aileen, willing to curry favor here and there, had responded. Mrs. Huddlestone was a little woman, not very attractive in appearance, clever in a social way, and eminently practical. “Speaking of Mrs. Merrill,” commented Mrs. Huddlestone, on this particular day, “there she is—near the dress-goods counter. She always carries that lorgnette in just that way.” Aileen turned and examined critically a tall, dark, slender woman of the high world of the West, very remote, disdainful, superior. “You don’t know her?” questioned Aileen, curiously, surveying her at leisure. “No,” replied Mrs. Huddlestone, defensively. “They live on the North Side, and the different sets don’t mingle so much.” As a matter of fact, it was just the glory of the principal families that they were above this arbitrary division of “sides,” and could pick their associates from all three divisions. “Oh!” observed Aileen, nonchalantly. She was secretly irritated to think that Mrs. Huddlestone should find it necessary to point out Mrs. Merrill to her as a superior person. “You know, she darkens her eyebrows a little, I think,” suggested Mrs. Huddlestone, studying her enviously. “Her husband, they say, isn’t the most faithful person in the world. There’s another woman, a Mrs. Gladdens, that lives very close to them that he’s very much interested in.” “Oh!” said Aileen, cautiously. After her own Philadelphia experience she had decided to be on her guard and not indulge in too much gossip. Arrows of this particular kind could so readily fly in her direction. “But her set is really much the smartest,” complimented Aileen’s companion. Thereafter it was Aileen’s ambition to associate with Mrs. Anson Merrill, to be fully and freely accepted by her. She did not know, although she might have feared, that that ambition was never to be realized.