e of it, please. My compliments to her ladyship." Now then
for Mrs. Grenville, and so on. Crowds still, you see, but no
hand-shaking, no confusion of voices; and then, the wonderful economy:
no tea and coffee, no ices, no professional artistes, only a little
refreshment perhaps in the servants' hall.'

'Audrey, how can you talk such nonsense?' returned her sister severely.

But Captain Burnett gave his low laugh of amusement. He revelled in the
girl's odd speeches; he thought Audrey's nonsense worth more than all
Geraldine's sense, he even enjoyed with a man's _insouciance_ her daring
disregard of conventionality.

How difficult it is for a person thoroughly to know him or her self,
unless he or she be morbidly addicted to incessant self-examination!
Audrey thought that it was mere neighbourliness that induced her to call
on the Blakes that afternoon; she had no idea that a strong curiosity
made her wish to interview the new-comers.

Rutherford was far too confined an area for a liberal mind like
Audrey's. Her large and intense nature demanded fuller scope for its
energies. With the exception of boys--who certainly preponderated in
Rutherford--there were far too few human beings to satisfy Audrey. Every
fresh face was therefore hailed by her with joy, and though perhaps she
hardly went to Dr. Johnson's length when he complained that he
considered that day lost on which he had not made a new acquaintance,
still, her social instincts were not sufficiently nourished. The few
people were busy people; they had a tiresome habit, too, of forming
cliques, and in many ways they disappointed her. With her richer
neighbours, especially among the Hill houses, Geraldine was the reigning
favourite; Mrs. Charrington was devoted to her. Only little Mrs.
Stanfield, of Rosendale, thought there was no one in the world like dear
Audrey Ross.

Audrey would not have mentioned her little scheme to her mother for
worlds. Her mother was not a safe agent. She had long ago made Geraldine
her conscience-keeper, but she had no objection to tell her father when
she met him walking down the hill with his hands behind him, and
evidently revolving his next Sunday's sermon.

Dr. Ross was rather a fine-looking man. He had grown gray early, and his
near-sight obliged him to wear spectacles; but his keen, clever face,
and the benevolent and kindly air that distinguished him, always
attracted people to him. At times he was a little absent and whimsica