the elegances which she would be like to want in the fashionable society
with which she was for a short time to mingle.

Mrs. Clymer Ketchum was so well pleased with the young lady she was
entertaining, that she thought it worth while to give a party while
Myrtle was staying with her. She had her jealousies and rivalries, as
women of the world will, sometimes, and these may have had their share in
leading her to take the trouble a large party involved. She was tired of
the airs of Mrs. Pinnikle, who was of the great Apex family, and her
terribly accomplished daughter Rhadamartha, and wanted to crush the young
lady, and jaundice her mother, with a girl twice as brilliant and ten
times handsomer. She was very willing, also, to take the nonsense out of
the Capsheaf girls, who thought themselves the most stylish personages of
their city world, and would bite their lips well to see themselves
distanced by a country miss.

In the mean time circumstances were promising to bring into Myrtle's
neighborhood several of her old friends and admirers. Mrs. Clymer
Ketchum had written to Murray Bradshaw that she had asked his pretty
milkmaid to come and stay awhile with her, but he had been away on
business, and only arrived in the city a day or two before the party. But
other young fellows had found out the attractions of the girl who was
"hanging out at the Clymer Ketchum concern," and callers were plenty,
reducing tete-a-tetes in a corresponding ratio. He did get one
opportunity, however, and used it well. They had so many things to talk
about in common, that she could not help finding him good company. She
might well be pleased, for he was an adept in the curious art of being
agreeable, as other people are in chess or billiards, and had made a
special study of her tastes, as a physician studies a patient's
constitution. What he wanted was to get her thoroughly interested in
himself, and to maintain her in a receptive condition until such time as
he should be ready for a final move. Any day might furnish the decisive
motive; in the mean time he wished only to hold her as against all
others.

It was well for her, perhaps, that others had flattered her into a
certain consciousness of her own value. She felt her veins full of the
same rich blood as that which had flushed the cheeks of handsome Judith
in the long summer of her triumph. Whether it was vanity, or pride, or
only the instinctive sense of inherited force and att