those same languorous
ladies wore in feathery mists atop their hats.

"But, Tweet," argued Papa Gregg, "what's the use? You can't take them
back with you. Custom-house regulations forbid it."

The rather faded but smartly dressed Mrs. Gregg asserted herself:

"They're barbarous! We had moving pictures at the club showing how
they're torn from the mother birds. No daughter of mine--"

"I don't care!" retorted Tweetie. "They're perfectly stunning; and I'm
going to have them."

And she had them--not that the aigret incident is important; but it may
serve to place the Greggs in their respective niches.

At eleven o'clock Friday morning Mary Gowd called at the Gregg's hotel,
according to appointment. In far-away Batavia, Illinois, Mrs. Gregg had
heard of Mary Gowd. And Mary Gowd, with her knowledge of everything
Roman--from the Forum to the best place at which to buy pearls--was to
be the staff on which the Greggs were to lean.

"My husband," said Mrs. Gregg; "my daughter Twee--er--Eleanora. We've
heard such wonderful things of you from my dear friend Mrs. Melville
Peters, of Batavia."

"Ah, yes!" exclaimed Mary Gowd. "A most charming person, Mrs. Peters."

"After she came home from Europe she read the most wonderful paper on
Rome before the Women's West End Culture Club, of Batavia. We're
affiliated with the National Federation of Women's Clubs, as you
probably know; and--"

"Now, Mother," interrupted Henry Gregg, "the lady can't be interested in
your club."

"Oh, but I am!" exclaimed Mary Gowd very vivaciously. "Enormously!"

Henry Gregg eyed her through his cigar smoke with suddenly narrowed
lids.

"M-m-m! Well, let's get to the point anyway. I know Tweetie here is
dying to see St. Peter's, and all that."

Tweetie had settled back inscrutably after one comprehensive, disdainful
look at Mary Gowd's suit, hat, gloves and shoes. Now she sat up, her
bewitching face glowing with interest.

"Tell me," she said, "what do they call those officers with the long
pale-blue capes and the silver helmets and the swords? And the ones in
dark-blue uniform with the maroon stripe at the side of the trousers?
And do they ever mingle with the--that is, there was one of the blue
capes here at tea yesterday--"

Papa Gregg laughed a great, comfortable laugh.

"Oh, so that's where you were staring yesterday, young lady! I thought
you acted kind of absent-minded." He got up to walk over and pinch
Tweetie's blushing cheek.