was appointed to take her out. It was a house where he rather liked to
go, for in that New York of his where so few houses had any distinctive
character, this one had a temperament of its own in so far that you might
expect to meet people of temperament there, if anywhere. They were indeed
held in a social solution where many other people of no temperament at
all floated largely and loosely about, but they were there, all the same,
and it was worth coming on the chance of meeting them, though the
indiscriminate hospitality of the hostess might let the evening pass
without promoting the chance. Now, however, she had unwittingly put into
Hewson's keeping, for two hours at least, the very temperament that had
kept his fancy for the last half-year and more. He fairly laughed at
sight of the name on the little card, and hurried into the drawing-room,
where the first thing after greeting his hostess, he caught the wandering
look and vague smile of Mrs. Rock. The look and the smile became personal
to him, and she welcomed him with a curious resumption of the
confidential terms in which they had seemed to part that afternoon at St.
Johnswort. He thought that she was going to begin talking to him where
she had left off, about Rosalie, as she had called her, and he was
disappointed in the commonplaces that actually ensued. At the end of
these, however, she did say: "Miss Hernshaw is here with me. Have you
seen her?"

"Oh, yes," Hewson returned, for he had caught sight of the girl in a
distant group, on his way up to Mrs. Rock, but in view of the affluent
opportunity before him had richly forborne trying even to make her bow to
him, though he believed she had seen him. "I am to have the happiness of
going out with her."

"Oh, indeed," said Mrs. Rock, "that is nice," and then the people began
assorting themselves, and the man who was appointed to take Mrs. Rock