nd which the Follingsbee mansion opened before her.

On the eventful evening, Mrs. Follingsbee and Lillie stood together
to receive their guests,--the former in gold color, with magnificent
point lace and diamond tiara; while Lillie in heavenly blue, with
wreaths of misty tulle and pearl ornaments, seemed like a filmy cloud
by the setting sun.

Rose, entering on Harry Endicott's arm, in the full bravery of a
well-chosen toilet, caused a buzz of admiration which followed them
through the rooms; but Rose was nothing to the illuminated eyes of
Mrs. Follingsbee compared with the portly form of Mrs. Van Astrachan
entering beside her, and spreading over her the wings of motherly
protection. That much-desired matron, serene in her point lace and
diamonds, beamed around her with an innocent kindliness, shedding
respectability wherever she moved, as a certain Russian prince was
said to shed diamonds.

[Illustration: "Rose, entering on Harry Endicott's arm."]

"Why, that is Mrs. Van Astrachan!"

"You don't tell me so! Is it possible?"

"Which?" "Where is she?" "How in the world did she get here?" were
the whispered remarks that followed her wherever she moved; and Mrs.
Follingsbee, looking after her, could hardly suppress an exulting _Te
Deum_. It was done, and couldn't be undone.

Mrs. Van Astrachan might not appear again at a _salon_ of hers for a
year; but that could not do away the patent fact, witnessed by so many
eyes, that she had been there once. Just as a modern newspaper or
magazine wants only one article of a celebrated author to announce him
as among their stated contributors for all time, and to flavor every
subsequent issue of the journal with expectancy, so Mrs. Follingsbee
exulted in the idea that this one evening would flavor all her
receptions for the winter, whether the good lady's diamonds ever
appeared there again or not. In her secret heart, she always had the
perception, when striving to climb up on this kind of ladder, that the
time might come when she should be found out; and she well knew the
absolute and uncomprehending horror with which that good lady would
regard the French principles and French practice of which Charlie
Ferrola and Co. were the expositors and exemplars.

This was what Charlie Ferrola meant when he said that the Van
Astrachans were obtuse. They never could be brought to the niceties of
moral perspective which show one exactly where to find the vanishing
point for every duty.