ing. Mrs. Somers took it from her,
and placed it on the table; it tottered and nodded to the chirrups of
the guests. Ben, from the opposite side of the table, addressed me by
a look, which enlightened me. His voyage to India was useless, as the
property would stand for twenty-one years more, lacking some months,
unless Providence interposed. Adelaide was oblivious of the child,
but Desmond thumped his glass on the mahogany to attract it, for its
energies were absorbed in swallowing its fists and fretfully crying.
When Murphy announced coffee in the parlor, the nurse took it away;
and after coffee and sponge cake were served the visitors drove off.
That afternoon some friends of Adelaide called, to whom she introduced
me as "cousin." She gave graphic descriptions of them, after their
departure. One had achieved greatness by spending her winters in
Washington, and contracting a friendship with John C. Calhoun. Another
was an artist who had painted an ideal head of her ancestor, Sir
Roger de Roger, not he who had arrived some years ago as a weaver from
Glasgow, but the one who had remained on the family estate. A third
reviewed books and collected autographs.

The next afternoon one of the Miss Hiticutts from across the way came,
in a splendid camel's-hair shawl and a shabby dress. "How _is_ Mr.
Somers?" she asked. "He is such a martyr."

Here Mrs. Somers entered. "My dear Bellevue, you are worn out with
your devotion to him; when have you taken the air?" She did not wait
for a reply, but addressed Adelaide with, "This is your young friend,
and where is my favorite, Mr. Ben, and little Miss Ann? Have you
anything new? I went down to Harris yesterday to tell her she must
sweep away her old trash of a circulating library, and begin with the
New Regime of Novels, which threatens to overwhelm us."

Adelaide talked slowly at first, and then soared into a region where
I had never seen a woman--an intellectual one. Miss Hiticutt followed
her, and I experienced a new pleasure. Mrs. Somers was silent, but
listened with respect to Miss Hiticutt, for she was of the real Belem
azure in blood as well as in brain; besides, she was rich, and would
never marry. It was a Pickersgill hallucination to be attentive to
people who had legacies in their power. Mrs. Somers had a bequested
fortune already in hair rings and silver ware. While appearing to
listen to Adelaide, her eyes wandered over me with speculation askant
in them. Adelaide was