ised in one slender hand, letting her eyes fall
deliberately on the broad back and flat nails of the exquisitely kept
section on Mrs. Kaye's lap. "So far, in my small social ventures I have
felt the necessity of little beyond good manners and a small independent
income. This is my first excursion into the great world, and of course
my cousin is too secure in her position to care whether I am smart or
not. Miss Thangue, the only other woman I have talked with, is far too
amiable and well-bred. Am I to understand that I shall be tried by New
York measurements and found wanting?"

"Oh no!" Mrs. Kaye's bright color had darkened. "On the contrary, the
English are always rather amused at American distinctions. It only
happens that all my friends are New-Yorkers."

She was a very clever woman, for snobbery had blunted and demoralized
only one small chamber of her brain, and she had as comprehensive a
knowledge of the world as any woman in it. Nevertheless, as her powerful
magnetic eyes met the ingenuous orbs opposite, she was unable to
determine whether the barbed words, quivering in a sore spot, had been
uttered in innocence or intent. "Of course one doesn't meet so many
Americans, after all. Naturally, the New-Yorkers bring the best
letters." She paused a moment as if ruminating, then delivered herself
of an epigram: "New York is the great American invention for separating
the wheat from the tares."

"Indeed!" Isabel was too surprised to strike back.

"It is well known that it is one of the most exclusive social bodies in
the world. You have far less difficulty over here."

"That may be merely owing to the fear that affects all new social
bodies. I have the honor to know the leader of society in St. Peter--a
town of ten thousand inhabitants near my own--and she is frightfully
exclusive. She is so afraid of knowing the wrong sort of people that she
is barely on nodding terms with the several thousand new-comers that
have added to the wealth and importance of the town during the last ten
years. Consequently, her circle is as dull as an Anglo-Saxon Sunday. I
fancy the same may be said of New York, for its fashionable set is not
large and its interests are far from various. From all I have heard,
London society alone is perennially interesting, and the reason is,
that, absolutely secure, it keeps itself from staleness by constantly
refreshing its veins with new blood, exclusive only against
offensiveness. Of course you are