would not be bored by a little of it.

It was a well-worded note; as Mrs. Carriswood read it she realized
for the first time how completely Tommy was acclimated in society.
She remembered his plaint years ago, and his awe of "oil paintings"
and "people of culture;" and she laughed half-sadly as she passed
the note over to Miss Van Harlem.

"I presume it is the Alexandria excursion that the Beatouns
were talking about yesterday," she said, languidly.
"He wants to show that young Irishman that we have a mild flavor
of antiquity, ourselves. We are to see Alexandria and have a real
old Virginian dinner, including one of the famous Beatoun hams
and some of the '69 Cha-teau Yquem and the sacred '47 port.
I suppose he will have the four-in-hand buckboard. 'A small party '--
that will mean the Honorable Basil Sackville, Mrs. Beatoun, Lilly Denning,
probably one of the Cabinet girls, Colonel Turner, and that young
Russian Beatoun is so fond of, Tommy Fitzmaurice ------"

"Why do you always call Mr. Fitzmaurice Tommy?"--this interruption
comes with a slight rise of color from young Margaret.

"Everybody calls him Tommy in his own town; a politician as popular
as he with the boys is naturally Tommy or Jerry or Billy.
They slap him on the back or sit with an arm around his neck
and concoct the ways to rule us."

"I don't think anyone slaps Mr. Fitzmaurice on the back and calls
him Tommy, NOW," says Margaret, with a little access of dignity.