blood advertised itself in her Bostonese, but she was sound and
strong and the way she instantly got at the invoice price of Henry
and his real worth, pleased me. She was genuine American. The
thing that troubled me was the fear that Henry would begin too soon
to lambast onion soup. But he didn't and in a few moments we were
having this dialogue:

HENRY: "Oh, yes, indeed; we've grown fond of her. Her father was--"

AUNTIE: "Oh, yes, I knew her father. Mr. Chesman and he were
interested together in New Mexican mining claims in the eighties;
I believe they made some money. But--"

THE GILDED YOUTH: "Well, Auntie--would you mind telling me how--?"

AUNTIE: "Why, on her application blank, of course, with her father's
name, age and residence."

THE GILDED ONE: "But you never mentioned it to me?"

AUNTIE: "Nor to her, either. Why should I? This is hardly the place
to organize the Colonial Dames! I believe you said a few minutes
ago that you had met her on the boat."

HENRY: "One meets so many nice people on the boat!"

ME: "You've heard of the woman who said she didn't know the man
socially, she had just met him coming over on the boat!"

The Gilded Youth looked quickly at me, catching me suppressing a