and her own contempt.

She had a horror, however, of putting on what she called "goody-goody
airs," and under the influence of this feeling acted much like
her old self. Not one of her callers could have charged her with
manifesting a certain kind of misleading favor, but her little salon
appeared as free from restraint as ever, and her manner as genial
and lively. It began to be observed by some, however, that while
she participated unhesitatingly in the light talk of others, she
herself would occasionally broach topics of more weight, especially
such as related to the progress of the war; and more than once she
gave such direction to her conversation with the artist as made
his eyes kindle.

Her father was satisfied. He usually came home late on Saturday,
and some of her gentleman friends who were in the habit of dropping
in of a Sunday evening, were soon taught that these hours were
engaged.

"You need not excuse yourself on my account," her father had said
to her.

"But I shall," was her prompt response. "After all you have done
and are doing for me, it's a pity if I can't give you one evening
in the week. You are looking after other people in New York;
I'm going to look after you; and you shall find that I am a sharp
inquisitor. You must reveal enough of the secrets of that mysterious
office of yours to satisfy me that you are not in danger."

He soon began to look forward with glad anticipation to his ramble