"No, no, Mrs. Pasmer! It's just his personal envy. He wasn't in the
spread, and of course he doesn't like to hear any one praise it. Go on!"
They all laughed.

"Well, even Mr. Boardman will admit," said Mrs. Pasmer; "that nothing
could have been prettier than that pavilion at the bottom of the lawn,
and the little tables scattered about over it, and all those charming
young creatures under that lovely evening sky."

"Ah! Even Boardman can't deny that. We did have the nicest crowd; didn't
we?"

"Well," said Mrs. Pasmer, playfully checking herself in a ready adhesion,
"that depends a good deal upon where Mr. Boardman's spread was."

"Thank you," said Boardman.

"He wasn't spreading anywhere," cried his friend. "Except himself--he was
spreading himself everywhere."

"Then I think I should prefer to remain neutral," said Mrs. Pasmer, with
a mock prudence which pleased the young men. In the midst of the pleasure
the was giving and feeling she was all the time aware that her daughter
had contributed but one remark to the conversation, and that she must be
seeming very stiff and cold. She wondered what that meant, and whether
she disliked this little Mr. Boardman, or whether she was again trying to
punish Mr: Mavering for something, and, if so, what it was. Had he
offended her in some way the other day? At any rate, she had no right to
show it. She longed for some chance to scold the girl, and tell her that
it would not do, and make her talk. Mr. Mavering was merely a friendly