ing to a
young woman who, beginning with newspaper work, has stepped suddenly into
a niche of fiction. The tall, loose-jointed man at the left of the group,
the editor of a conservative monthly, has for his vis-a-vis the artist
who has had so much to do with the redemption of American architecture
and decoration from the mongrel period of the middle century. Another
night you may not see a single one of these faces, but another set, yet
equally interesting.

Meanwhile Martin Cortright had discovered a man, a financier and also a
book collector of prominence, who was reputed to have a complete set of
some early records that he had long wished to consult; he had never found
a suitable time for meeting him, as the man, owing to having been
oftentime the prey of both unscrupulous dealers and parasitic friends,
was esteemed difficult.

Infected by the freedom of his surroundings, Martin plucked up courage
and spoke to him, the result being an interchange of cards, book talk,
and an invitation to visit the library.

Then the music began, and lasted not above an hour, with breathing and
chatting intervals, followed by claret cup and lemonade. A pleasant
evening's recreation, with no opportunity of accumulating the material
for either mental or physical headache.

The night air was very soft, but of that delusive quality that in
February portends snow, and not the return of bluebirds, as the
uninitiated might expect. Miss Lavinia was fascinated by the lights and
motion of Herald Square, and at her suggestion, it being but a little
past ten, we strolled homeward down Broadway instead of taking a car. Her
delight at the crowd of promenaders, the picturesque florists' shops, and
the general buzz of night life was almost pathetic. Her after-dark
experience having been to get to and from specified places as quickly as
possible with Lucy for escort, solicitous when in a street car lest they
should pass their destination, and trembling even more when in a cab lest
the driver should have committed the variable and expansive crime of
"taking something." She bought a "ten o'clock edition" of the _Telegram_,
some of "Match Mary's" wares, that perennially middle-aged woman who
haunts the theatre region, and suggested that we have ice-cream soda at a
particularly glittering drug store, but this desire was switched into hot
bouillon by Evan, who retains the Englishman's dislike of chilling his
internals.

New York is really a fine city