e forenoon. Their
sense of chivalry would not have permitted it. When she arose she
called them to her and patted their heads and said: 'What dear parents
I have!' It might be thought that the fair Frances led an aimless and
idle life. Not so. The young lady was very busy and never forgot her
aim. She was preparing herself to be a marryer of men and the leading
marryer in the proud city of her birth. Every member of the household
became her assistant in this noble industry. Many storekeepers had
unconsciously joined her staff and 'charged it' until they were weary.
All her papa's money had been invested in the business, and he began
to borrow for a rainy day. Then there came a long spell of wet
weather. At last something had to be done. Frances began to use her
talents. No prince or noble duke had come for her, so she married an
old man worth ten million dollars and sent her parents to an orphan
asylum with a fair allowance of spending-money. They are her only
heirs, and now, at thirty, but with ample capital, she has set up
again in the marrying business.

"She lives in a big country-house, and has a lot of cats and dogs that
are shampooed every day. Her life is pretty much devoted to the
regulation of hair. Her own requires the exclusive attention of a
hired girl. Its tint, luster, and general effect show excellent taste
and close application. Considering its area, her scalp is the most
remarkable field of industry in Connecticut. Has herself made into a
kind of life-sized portrait every day and carefully framed and lighted
and hung. It is a beautiful portrait, but it is not a portrait of
her.

"Her life is arduous. I have some reason to think that it wearies her.
She rings for the masseuse at 10.30 A.M. and breakfasts in bed at
twelve o'clock. Soon after that the chiropodist and the manicure and
the hair-dresser begin to saw wood; then the grooms and second
footmen. At two o'clock she goes out to pat the head of the
ten-thousand-dollar bull and give some sugar to the horses, all of
whom have been prepared for this ordeal by bathing and massage.

"It's great to be able to pat the head of a ten-thousand-dollar bull.
It's a pretty vanity. All the Fifth Avenue farmers indulge in it. Some
slap them on the back and some poke them in the ribs with the point of
a parasol, but the correct thing is to pat them on the head and say:
Dear old Romeo!

"After a turn in the saddle Mrs. Revere-Chalmers led society until
midnigh