friend?"

"No, Mamma," said Janet, "this is Cynthia Wetherell." "Oh," said Mrs.
Duncan, looking very hard at Cynthia in a near-sighted way, and, not
knowing in the least who she was; "you haven't seen Senator and Mrs.
Meade, have you, Janet? They were to be here at eight o'clock."

"No," said Janet, turning again to Cynthia and scarcely hearing the
question.

"Janet hasn't seen them, Dudley," said Mrs. Duncan, going up to Mr.
Worthington, who was pulling his chop whiskers by the door. "Janet has
discovered such a beautiful creature," she went on, in a voice which she
did not take the trouble to lower. "Do look at her, Alexander. And you,
Mr. Sutton--who are such a bureau of useful information, do tell me who
she is. Perhaps she comes from your part of the country--her name's
Wetherell."

"Wetherell? Why, of course I know her," said Mr. Sutton, who was greatly
pleased because Mrs. Duncan had likened him to an almanac: greatly
pleased this evening in every respect, and even the diamond in his bosom
seemed to glow with a brighter fire. He could afford to be generous
to-night, and he turned to Mr. Worthington and laughed knowingly. "She's
the ward of our friend Jethro," he explained.

"What is she?" demanded Mrs. Duncan, who knew and cared nothing about
politics, a country girl, I suppose."

"Yes," replied Mr. Sutton, "a country girl from a little village not far
from Clovelly. A good girl, I believe, in spite of the atmosphere in