"Beyond," said the father. "The pantry, china closet, and kitchen are
finished in black walnut. Blankets, linen, and tableware are of best
quality. Here are berths for attendants and porter's room for baggage.
Carpets, rugs, draperies, and upholstery were especially imported to
harmonize. Nobody amounts to much in these days, Alfonso, unless he owns
a private car or a steam yacht. Henceforth this car, named in your honor,
may play an important part in the history of the Harris family."

Mrs. Harris, Leo, and Lucille, took seats in the carriage; Gertrude and
her mother were on the back seat, while Lucille and her artist friend
faced Mrs. Harris and daughter.

Jean sat upright with the coachman. Colonel Harris and Alfonso rejoined
their friends and together entered the coupé. Reuben Harris once served
on the governor's staff for seven weeks, ranking as colonel, so now all
his friends, even his family, spoke of him as "the Colonel." It was well,
as it pleased his vanity.

The coachmen's whips left their sockets, and coupé and carriage dashed
along 42nd Street and down Fifth Avenue. The ten minutes' drive passed as
a dream to some in the carriage. Mrs. Harris's mind revelled in the
intricate warfare of society. She had often been in New York, and in
the summers was seen at the most fashionable watering places with her
children. Her mind was burdened trying to discover the steps that lead to
the metropolitan and international "four hundred." She was determined
that her children should marry into well regulated families, and that the
colonel should have a national reputation. So absorbed was she that her
eyes saw not, neither did her ears hear what transpired in the carriage.
Gertrude was equally quiet; her thoughts were of dear friends she had