one--for I mean to strike while the iron is hot--just
have the goodness to look in on Mrs. S., she will feel it a compliment,
being a trifle homesick and lonesome down here. But tell her to keep a
stiff upper lip; there isn't many ladies, not even your barronessers and
duchessers, that shall outshine her at the grand party up yonder."

"The grand party!" repeated Hepworth, in amazement. "Are you invited
there?"

"Not just yet, but of course I mean to be. One good turn deserves
another, Mr. Hepworth--I beg pardon--Mr. Closs, and if I take this pile
up to Castle Houghton, it is no more than fair that the young lady gives
me an invite for myself and Mrs. S. Turn about is fair play, all the
world over, Mr. Closs, and I don't mean to lose my chances. Some men
would ask money for all this, but I am ready to put up with an invite.
Mrs. S. has set her heart on it. Ask her to let you see that red velvet
dress that she got made on purpose, and the panier. Don't, by any means,
forget to ask her to show you the panier; it's tremendous, I tell you."

Mr. Stacy stood for a moment longer, shaking the links of his gold chain
up and down in one hand, as if he had something else to say, but not
remembering what it was, he disappeared, and was soon driving, in the
best carriage he could obtain, toward Houghton Castle.

Lady Clara was in her own room scolding, persuading, and comforting
Caroline, when a card was brought to her, and she read, with
astonishment, the name of "Matthew Stacy, Esq., Ex-Alderman, New York."

"Who is this person?" she inquired.

"Haven't the least hidea, my lady; he asked for yer leddyship, and
would, on no account, see any one else, yer leddyship."

"Where is he now?"

"In the small drawing-room, yer leddyship."

Clara went down, excited by the painful curiosity which always disturbed
her when she met any person from America. What could he want?

Alderman Stacy arose as she entered the room where he was sitting, and
made three profound bows in the different stages of her advance from the
door, then he sat down in a light chair. The delicate India carving
began to creak under his weight, and he sprang to his feet again,
looking over his shoulder at the combination of azure silk and lace-like
ebony in awkward consternation. Then he took another chair, all cushions
and softness, in which he sank down luxuriously, and began to fidget
with his chain.

"You are from New York, Mr. Stacy--I think it was on yo