"That woman you were always sitting with; she told you not to speak to me. I have seen her in New York; she speaks to me now herself. She recommended you to have nothing to do with me."
"Oh, how can you say such dreadful things?" the young man murmured, blushing very red.
"You know you can't deny it. You were not attracted by my family. They are charming people when you know them. I don't have a better time anywhere than I have at home," the girl went on, loyally. "But what does it matter? My family are very happy. They are getting quite used to New York. Mrs. Dangerfield is a vulgar wretch; next winter she will call on me."
"You are unlike any girl I have ever seen; I don't understand you," said poor Vogelstein, with the color still in his face.
"Well, you never will understand me—probably; but what difference does it make?'
Vogelstein attempted to tell her what difference it made, but I have not space to follow him here. It is known that when the German mind attempts to explain things it does not always reduce them to simplicity, and Pandora was first mystified, then amused, by some of her companion's revelations. At last I think she was a little frightened, for she remarked, irrelevantly, with some decision, that luncheon would be ready and they ought to join Mrs. Steuben. He walked slowly, on purpose, as they left the house
