of a rich and venerable citizen, conspicuous
for his public spirit and his large almsgiving. Ransom had lived long
enough in New York to know that a request from this ancient worthy to be
made known to Miss Tarrant would mark her for the approval of the
respectable, stamp her as a success of no vulgar sort; and as he turned
away, a faint, inaudible sigh passed his lips, dictated by the sense
that he himself belonged to a terribly small and obscure minority. He
turned away because, as we know, he had been taught that a gentleman
talking to a lady must always do that when a new gentleman is presented;
though he observed, looking back, after a minute, that young Mr. Burrage
evidently had no intention of abdicating in favour of the eminent
philanthropist. He thought he had better go home; he didn't know what
might happen at such a party as that, nor when the proceedings might be
supposed to terminate; but after considering it a minute he dismissed
the idea that there was a chance of Verena's speaking again. If he was a
little vague about this, however, there was no doubt in his mind as to
the obligation he was under to take leave first of Mrs. Burrage. He
wished he knew where Verena was staying; he wanted to see her alone, not
in a supper-room crowded with millionaires. As he looked about for the
hostess it occurred to him that she would know, and that if he were able
to quench a certain shyness sufficiently to ask her, she would tell him.
Having satisfied himself presently that she was not in the supper-room,
he made his way back to the parlours, where the company now was much
diminished. He looked again into the music-room, tenanted only by
half-a-dozen couples, who were cultivating privacy among the empty
chairs, and here he perceived Mrs. Burrage sitting in conversation with
Olive Chancellor (the latter, apparently, had not moved from her place),
before the deserted scene of Verena's triumph. His search had been so
little for Olive that at the sight of her he faltered a moment; then he
pulled himself together, advancing with a consciousness of the
Mississippi manner. He felt Olive's eyes receiving him; she looked at
him as if it was just the hope that she shouldn't meet him again that
had made her remain where she was. Mrs. Burrage got up, as he bade her
good-night, and Olive followed her example.

"So glad you were able to come. Wonderful creature, isn't she? She can
do anything she wants."

These words from the elde