boured
for days at carving a bit of wood, and had built a tiny pagoda-like
tea-house with more bits of wood in it than a man could count in a week.

They had a luncheon of fresh venison and partridges and trout, and in
the afternoon a hunt. The more active set out to track the deer in the
snow; but most prepared to watch the lake-shore, while the game-keepers
turned loose the dogs back in the hills. This "hounding" was against
the law, but Bertie was his own law here--and at the worst there could
simply be a small fine, imposed upon some of the keepers. They drove
eight or ten deer to water; and as they fired as many as twenty shots
at one deer, they had quite a lively time. Then at dusk they came back,
in a fine glow of excitement, and spent the evening before the blazing
logs, telling over their adventures.

The party spent two days and a half here, and on the last evening,
which was Thanksgiving, they had a wild turkey which Bertie had shot
the week before in Virginia, and were entertained by a minstrel show
which had been brought up from New York the night before. The next
afternoon they drove back to the train.

In the morning, when they reached the city, Alice found a note from
Mrs. Winnie Duval, begging her and Montague to come to lunch and attend
a private lecture by the Swami Babubanana, who would tell them all
about the previous states of their souls. They went--though not without
a protest from old Mrs. Montague, who declared it was "worse than Bob
Ingersoll."

And then, in the evening, came Mrs. de Graffenried's opening
entertainment, which was one of the great events of the social year. In
the general rush of things Montague had not had a chance properly to
realize it; but Reggie Mann and Mrs. de Graffenried had been working
over it for weeks. When the Montagues arrived, they found the Riverside
mansion--which was decorated in imitation of an Arabian palace--turned
into a jungle of tropical plants.

They had come early at Reggie's request, and he introduced them to Mrs.
de Graffenried, a tall and angular lady with a leathern complexion
painfully painted; Mrs. de Graffenried was about fifty years of age,
but like all the women of Society she was made up for thirty. Just at
present there were beads of perspiration upon her forehead; something
had gone wrong at the last moment, and so Reggie would have no time to
show them the favours, as he had intended.

About a hundred and fifty guests were invited t