she had
fully understood herself what she was gathering; and this I intimated to
Beverly Rodgers, saying:--

"Do you suppose, my friend, that she suspected the feather of the birds
you flock with?"

Beverly took it lightly. "Hang it, old boy, of course everybody can't be
as nice as I am!" But he took it less lightly before it was over.

We stood chatting apart, he and I, while Bohm and Charley and Kitty
and Gazza walked across the street to the window of a shop, where old
furniture was for sale at a high price; and it grew clearer to me
what Beverly had innocently brought upon Mrs. Weguelin, and how he had
brought it. The little quiet, particular lady had been pleased with his
visit, and pleased with him. His good manners, his good appearance, his
good English-trained voice, all these things must have been extremely
to her taste; and then--more important than they--did she not know about
his people? She had inquired, he told me, with interest about two of his
uncles, whom she had last seen in 1858. "She's awfully the right sort,"
said Beverly. Yes, I saw well how that visit must have gone: the gentle
old lady reviving in Beverly's presence, and for the sake of being civil
to him, some memories of her girlhood, some meetings with those uncles,
some dances with them; and generally shedding from her talk and manner
the charm of some sweet old melody--and Beverly, the facile, the
appreciative, sitting there with her at a correct, deferential angle on
his chair, admirably sympathetic and in good form, and playing the old
school. (He had no thought to deceive her; the old school was his by
right, and genuinely in his blood, he took to it like a duck to the
water.) How should Mrs. Weguelin divine that he also took to the nouveau
jeu to the tune of Bohm and Charley and Kitty and Gazza? And so, to show
him some attention, and because she couldn't ask him to a meal, why, she
would take him over the old church, her colonial forefathers'; she would
tell him the little legends about them; he was precisely the young man
to appreciate such things--and she would be pleased if he would also
bring the friends with whom he was travelling.

I looked across the street at Bohm and Charley and Kitty and Gazza.
They were now staring about them in all their perfection of stare: small
Charley in a sleek slate-colored suit, as neat as any little barber;
Bohm, massive, portentous, his strong shoes and gloves the chief note in
his dress, and ab