to Constance, which gave her extreme enjoyment, and a nudge in the Ambassador's ribs, which he did not in the least resent.
"Faith, and it's the way yez always was, Jim Baldwin," cried Mince Pie Mulligan. "Whin you an' me was luggin' the buckets of butter an' jugs of the most iligant molasses to th' cushtomers, it was you, Jim Baldwin, as was always a-savin' your tin cints to buy a book. An' when you was a-coortin' Dan Hogan's pretty daughter, ye'd actually mourn over the ice-cream ye filled her up wid bekase it wasn't books wid a gilt bindin'!"
At this point Mr. Mulligan squared himself off, and distributed a general wink around the circle, including Eleanor, who glared at him like a basilisk. Mrs. Hill-Smith felt acutely for her dear Eleanor, but, being secretly consumed with curiosity about antecedents as new to her as they were to Constance Maitland, could not forbear remaining. The Slaters were well established socially and financially at the time of Mrs. Hill-Smith's birth, and she was as innocent of the phase of American life which Senator Mulligan was describing as if she had been born and reared in the royal apartments of Windsor Cas-
