enerations could contribute. It left Mrs.
Frederick Grierson--whose residence on the Heights had hitherto been our
"grandest"--breathless with despair.

With characteristic audacity Nancy had chosen old Nathaniel's sanctum for
her particular salon, into which Ham himself did not dare to venture
without invitation. It was hung in Pompeiian red and had a little
wrought-iron balcony projecting over the yard, now transformed by an
expert into a garden. When I had first entered this room after the
metamorphosis had taken place I inquired after the tombstone mantel.

"Oh, I've pulled it up by the roots," she said.

"Aren't you afraid of ghosts?" I inquired.

"Do I look it?" she asked. And I confessed that she didn't. Indeed, all
ghosts were laid, nor was there about her the slightest evidence of
mourning or regret. One was forced to acknowledge her perfection in the
part she had chosen as the arbitress of social honours. The candidates
were rapidly increasing; almost every month, it seemed, someone turned up
with a fortune and the aspirations that go with it, and it was Mrs.
Durrett who decided the delicate question of fitness. With these, and
with the world at large, her manner might best be described as difficult;
and I was often amused at the way in which she contrived to keep them at
arm's length and make them uncomfortable. With her intimates--of whom
there were few--she was frank.

"I suppose you enjoy it," I said to her once.

"Of course I enjoy it, or I shouldn't do it," she retorted. "It isn't the
real thing, as I told you once. But none of us gets the real thing. It's
power.... Just as you enjoy what you're doing--sorting out the unfit.
It's a game, it keeps us from brooding over things we can't help. And
after all, when we have good appetites and are fairly happy, why should
we complain?"

"I'm not complaining," I said, taking up a cigarette, "since I still
enjoy your favour."

She regarded me curiously.

"And when you get married, Hugh?"

"Sufficient unto the day," I replied.

"How shall I get along, I wonder, with that simple and unsophisticated
lady when she appears?"

"Well," I said, "you wouldn't marry me."

She shook her head at me, and smiled....

"No," she corrected me, "you like me better as Hams' wife than you would
have as your own."

I merely laughed at this remark.... It would indeed have been difficult
to analyze the new relationship that had sprung up between us, to say
what eleme