seemed made for the family.

Evelyn was not yet out, but she was very nearly out, and after the late
notoriety Mrs. Mavick dreaded the regular Newport season. And, in the
mood of the moment, she was tired of the Newport palace. She always said
that she liked simplicity--a common failing among people who are not
compelled to observe it. Perhaps she thought she was really fond of
rural life and country ways. As she herself said,

"If you have a summer cottage at Newport or Lenox, it is necessary to go
off somewhere and rest." And then it would be good for Evelyn to live
out-of-doors and see the real country, and, as for herself, as she looked
in the mirror, "I shall drink milk and go to bed early. Henderson used
to say that a month in New Hampshire made another woman of me."

Oh, to find a spot where we could be undisturbed, alone and unknown.
That was the program. But Carmen simply could not be anywhere content if
she were unnoticed. It was not so easy to give up daily luxury, and
habits of ease at the expense of attendants, or the ostentation which had
become a second nature. Therefore the "establishment" went along with
her to Rivervale, and the shy, modest little woman, who had dropped down
into the country simplicity that she so dearly loved, greatly enjoyed the
sensation that her coming produced. It needed no effort on her part to
produce the sensation. The carriage, and coachman and footman in livery,
would have been sufficient; and then the idea of one family being rich
enough to take the whole hotel!

The liveries, the foreign cook in his queer cap and apron, and all the
goings-on at the Peacock were the inexhaustible topic of talk in every
farmhouse for ten miles around. Rivervale was a self-respecting town,