which went into retirement on the padded hangers she had provided. She
realized, too, that elaborate as seemed to her the array of clothing
Jeannette had thought it necessary to bring for her visit, it was
probable that the girl herself had felt that she was having packed only
the simplest of her wardrobe and the least that a civilized being could
do with.

It was when Jeannette herself spread forth upon the little
dressing-table--cleverly contrived out of an old washstand, a long and
narrow mirror, and some odds and ends of muslin and lace--the articles
she was accustomed to use every day of her life, but which might have
been matched only in the homes of princes, that the young hostess found
it hardest to control the pang of envy which smote her. Such silver,
such crystal, such genuine ivory--and such sheer beauty of design and
finish! Yet Jeannette was almost awkward in her disposal of the imposing
array, saying with a laugh that she really couldn't remember how the
things went at home, but that it didn't matter in the least.

She set about removing her traveling clothes as if she never had been
waited upon in her life. It was only when she failed to discover how she
was put together that Georgiana had to come to the rescue.

"It's dreadfully stupid of me," protested Jeannette, her delicate cheeks
flushing, "but I simply can't find that absurd hook."

It was then that Georgiana frankly took the situation by its horns and
did away with all embarrassment.

"You must let me help you, Jean," she said, finishing the unhooking with
ease, "whenever you need it. I shall love to do it, for you might have
rather a bad time trying to do everything for yourself. There you
are--and please call me when you are ready to be fastened into your
other frock. I'm just around the corner, and there's nobody else at home
now."

Before supper was served, Georgiana prepared her cousin to meet "the
boarder." Not on any account would she have let his presence be
accounted for on the score of his being a guest in the house; not even
would she call him a "paying guest."

"Mr. Jefferson came to us through a letter from a friend. He said he
wanted a quiet place to work in, away from all interruptions by friends
or claims of any sort. He is writing a book, and we see as little of him
as if he were not in the house--except at the table. I think you will
like him. It's so long since we have had a man in the house we're not
yet used to it, b