had made a trip to Paris meanwhile and brought back much light and
graceful French furniture. The long double room was an admirable
setting for her stately little figure in its trailing gown of
wine-colored velvet trimmed with mellowed point lace (it had been
privately dipped in coffee) and her white high-piled hair. There was
no watchful anxiety in Mrs. McLane's lofty mien. She knew that the
best, old and young, would come to her New Year's Day reception as a
matter of course.

Mrs. Ballinger had also gratefully accepted Mrs. McLane's
invitation, for Sally had recently married Harold Abbott and was
receiving on Rincon Hill, and Maria was in modest retirement. She
wore a long gown of silver gray poplin as shining as her silver hair;
and as she was nearly a foot taller than her hostess, the two ladies
stood at opposite ends of the mantelpiece in the front parlor with
Annette McLane and two young friends between.

The reception was at its height at four o'clock. The rooms were
crowded, and the equipages of the guests packed not only South Park
but Third Street a block north and south.

Madeleine sat at the end of the long double room behind a table and
served the eggnog. The men hovered about her, not, as commonly, in
unqualified admiration, or passed on the goblets, slices of the
monumental cakes, and Peter Job's famous cream pie.

She had taken a glass at once and raised her spirits to the
necessary pitch; but its effect wore off in time and her hand began
to tremble slightly as she ladled out the eggnog. She had not heard
from Masters since he left and her days were as vacant as visible