embarrassed by these fine dames, and never, to my thinking, was seen to
better advantage than among what he called "world's people." He seemed to
me more really at home than among Friends, and as he towered, tall, and
gravely courteous in manner, I thought him a grand gentleman.

As I looked up, the young Miss Chew, who afterward married Colonel Eager
Howard, was saying saucily, "Does not Madam Wynne wear a mask for her skin!
It is worth keeping, Mr. Wynne."

"Let me recommend to you a vizard with silver buttons to hold in the mouth,
or, better, a riding-mask," cried Aunt Gainor, pleased at this gentle
badgering, "like this, John. See, a flat silver plate to hold between the
teeth. It is the last thing."

"White silk would suit her best," cried Mrs. Ferguson, "or green, with a
chin-curtain--a loo-mask. Which would you have, sir?"

"Indeed," he said quietly, "her skin is good enough. I know no way to
better it."

Then they all laughed, pelting the big man with many questions, until he
could not help but laugh, as he declared he was overwhelmed, and would come
on his business another day. But on this the women would not stay, and took
themselves and their high bonnets and many petticoats out of the room, each
dropping a curtsey at the door, and he bowing low, like Mr. John Penn, as
never before I had seen him do.

No sooner were they gone than he desired me to give him the note he had
written to his sister, since now it was not needed, and then he inquired
what book I was reading. Aunt Gainor glanced at it, and replied for me, "A