h in Boston to see the house where
Silas Lapham lived," put in the wicked Miss Opdyke. "One cannot see too
much of places associated with famous people."

"I don't remember any such name in American history," said honest
Imogen,--"'Silas Lapham,' who was he?"

"A man in a novel, and Amyas Leigh is a man in another novel," whispered
Miss Opdyke. "Mrs. Page isn't quite sure about him, but she doesn't like
to confess as frankly as you do. She has forgotten, and fancies that he
really lived in Queen Elizabeth's time; and the coachman was so solemnly
sure that he did that it's not much wonder. I bought an old silver
patch-box in a jeweller's shop on the High Street, and I'm going to tell
my sister that it belonged to Ayacanora."

"What an odd idea."

"We are full of odd ideas over in America, you know."

"Tell me something about the States," said Imogen. "My brother is quite
mad over Colorado, but he doesn't know much about the rest of it. I
suppose the country about New York isn't very wild, is it?"

"Not very," returned Miss Opdyke, with a twinkle. "The buffalo are
rarely seen now, and only two men were scalped by the Indians outside
the walls of the city last year."

"Fancy! And how do you pass your time? Is it a gay place?"

"Very. We pass our time doing all sorts of things. There's the Corn
Dance and the Green Currant Dance and the Water Melon pow wow, of
course, and beside these, which date back to the early days of the
colony, we have the more modern amusements, German opera and Italian
opera and the theatre and subscription concerts. Then we have balls
nearly every night in the season and dinner-parties and luncheons and
lectures and musical parties, and we study a good deal and 'slum' a
little. Last winter I belonged to a Greek class and a fencing class,
and a quartette club, and two private dancing classes, and a girls'
working club, and an amateur theatrical society. We gave two private
concerts for charities, you know, and acted the Antigone for the benefit
of the Influenza Hospital. Oh, there is a plenty to pass one's time in
New York, I can assure you. And when other amusements fail, we can go
outside the walls, with a guard of trappers, of course, and try our hand
at converting the natives."

"What tribe of Indians is it that you have near you?"

"The Tammanies,--a very trying tribe, I assure you. It seems impossible
to make any impression on them or teach them anything."

"Fancy! Did you ever hav