disrespectful, and then finished "to one's mother."

"That's the last person it's needed for, chum," replied Watts. "If
there's one person that doesn't need the world's or faculty's opinion to
prove one's merit, it's one's dear, darling, doating, self-deluded and
undisillusioned mamma. Heigh-ho. I'll be with mine two weeks from now,
after we've had our visit at the Pierces'. I'm jolly glad you are going,
old man. It will be a sort of tapering-off time for the summer's
separation. I don't see why you insist on starting in at once in New
York? No one does any law business in the summertime. Why, I even think
the courts are closed. Come, you'd better go on to Grey-Court with me,
and try it, at least. My mammy will kill the fatted calf for you in
great style."

"We've settled that once," said Peter, who was evidently speaking
journalistically, for he had done the settling.

Watts said something in a half-articulate way, which certainly would
have fired the blood of every dime museum-keeper in the country, had
they been there to hear the conversation, for, as well as could be
gathered from the mumbling, it related to a "pig-headed donkey" known of
to the speaker. "I suppose you'll be backing out of the Pierce affair
yet," he added, discontentedly.

"No," said Peter.

"An invitation to Grey-Court is worth two of the Shrubberies. My mother
knows only the right kind of people, while Mr. Pierce--"

"Is to be our host," interrupted Peter, but with no shade of correction