My dear Miss St. Claire:
Your truly charming envitation for the evening of next Thursday
evening was truly delightful to receive this morning. I will be
charm and inchanted indeed to present my compliments on next
Thursday evening.
Faithfully,

Amory Blaine.

* * * *

On Thursday, therefore, he walked pensively along the slippery,
shovel-scraped sidewalks, and came in sight of Myra's house, on the
half-hour after five, a lateness which he fancied his mother would
have favored. He waited on the door-step with his eyes nonchalantly
half-closed, and planned his entrance with precision. He would cross the
floor, not too hastily, to Mrs. St. Claire, and say with exactly the
correct modulation:

"My _dear_ Mrs. St. Claire, I'm _frightfully_ sorry to be late, but my
maid"--he paused there and realized he would be quoting--"but my uncle
and I had to see a fella-- Yes, I've met your enchanting daughter at
dancing-school."

Then he would shake hands, using that slight, half-foreign bow, with all
the starchy little females, and nod to the fellas who would be standing
'round, paralyzed into rigid groups for mutual protection.

A butler (one of the three in Minneapolis) swung open the door. Amory