find her, and give her a fan.

"You still live, Jenny," she said, kissing her gaily.

They called each other by their girl names, as is rather the custom in
Boston with ladies who are in the same set, whether they are great
friends or not. In the more changeful society of Cambridge, where so many
new people are constantly coming and going in connection with the
college, it is not so much the custom; but Mrs. Saintsbury was Boston
born, as well as Mrs. Pasmer, and was Cantabrigian by marriage--though
this is not saying that she was not also thoroughly so by convincement
and usage she now rarely went into Boston society.

"Yes, Etta--just. But I wasn't sure of it," said Mrs. Pasmer, "when I
woke yesterday. I was a mere aching jelly!"

"And Alice?"

"Oh; I don't think she had any physical consciousness. She was a mere
rapturous memory!"

"She did have a good time, didn't she?" said Mrs. Saintsbury, in a
generous retrospect. "I think she was on her feet every moment in the
evening. It kept me from getting tired, to watch her."

"I was afraid you'd be quite worn out. I'd no idea it was so late. It
must have been nearly half past seven before we got away from the Beck
Hall spread, and then by the time we had walked round the college
grounds--how extremely pretty the lanterns were, and how charming the
whole effect was!--it must have been nine before the dancing began. Well,