"There is a fashion in emotions as in everything else," said Bertha. "And sentiment is 'out.' So is stateliness. Who would submit to stateliness in these days? It was the highest aim of our great-grandmothers to be stately; but stateliness went out with ruffles and the minuet, and a certain kind of Roman nose you find in all portraits taken in the reigns of the Georges. Now we are sprightly. It is imperative that we should be sprightly. I hope you are prepared to be sprightly, Colonel Tredennis." He was very conscious of not looking so. In fact, the idea was growing upon him that upon the whole his grave face and large figure were rather out of place among all this airy _badinage_. His predominant feeling was that his unfortunate tendency to seriousness and silence was not a Washingtonian quality, and augured poorly for his future. Here were people who could treat lightly, not only their subjects, but themselves and each other. The fire-lit room, with its trifles and knick-knacks and oddities; the graceful, easy figure of Richard Amory lounging idly in his chair; Bertha, with her bright dress and fantastic little ornaments flashing and jingling; Arbuthnot smiling faintly, and touching his mustache with a long, fair hand,--each and all suggested to him in some whimsical, vague fashion that he was too large and not pliable enough for his surroundings, and that if he moved he might upset something, or tread upon some sparkling, not too substantial theory. "I am afraid I am not as well prepared as I might be," he answered. "Do you always find it easy?" "I!" she returned. "Oh, perfectly! it is only Mr. Arbuthnot who finds it difficult--being a prey to his feelings. In his moments of deep mental anguish the sprightliness which society demands of him is a thing from which his soul recoils." Shortly after dinner Arbuthnot went away. He had a final call to make upon some friends who were going away, after having taken an active part in the inaugural ceremonies and ball. It appeared that they had come from the West, with the laudable intention of making the most of these festivities, and that he had felt it his duty to do his utmost for their entertainment. "I hope they enjoyed themselves," said Bertha, as he stood making his adieus. "Well," was his reply, "it strikes me they did. I took them to the Treasury, and the Patent Office, and the Army and Navy Department, and up into the dome of the Capitol, and into the Senate and the House, and they heard the inaugural address, and danced at the ball, and saw the ex-President and bought photographs of the new one, and tired themselves out, and are going home a party of total wrecks, but without a thing on their consciences; so I think they must have enjoyed themselves. I hope so. I didn't. I don't grudge them anything; but it is the ninetieth time I have been through the Treasury, and the twentieth time I have climbed to the dome, and the exercise has lost its freshness."