'I had a magnificent audience last spring in St. Louis,' a fresh young voice announced, over the heads of the gathered group—a voice which, on Basil's turning, like every one else, for an explanation, appeared to have proceeded from the pretty girl with red hair. She had coloured a little with the effort of making this declaration, and she stood there smiling at her listeners.
Mrs. Farrinder bent a benignant brow upon her, in spite of her being, evidently, rather a surprise. 'Oh, indeed; and your subject, my dear young lady?'
'The past history, the present condition, and the future prospects of our sex.'
'Oh, well, St. Louis—that's scarcely the South,' said one of the ladies.
'I'm sure the young lady would have had equal success at Charleston or New Orleans,' Basil Ransom interposed.
'Well, I wanted to go farther,' the girl continued, 'but I had no friends. I have friends in St. Louis.'
'You oughtn't to want for them anywhere,' said Mrs. Farrinder, in a manner which, by this time, had quite explained her reputation. 'I am acquainted with the loyalty of St. Louis.'
'Well, after that, you must let me introduce Miss Tarrant; she's perfectly dying to know you, Mrs. Farrinder.' These words emanated from one of the gentlemen, the young man with white hair, who had been mentioned to Ransom by Doctor Prance as a celebrated magazinist. He, too, up to this moment, had hovered in the background, but he now gently clove the assembly (several of the ladies made way for him), leading in the daughter of the mesmerist.
She laughed and continued to blush—her blush was the faintest pink; she looked very young and slim and fair as Mrs. Farrinder made way for her on the sofa which Olive Chancellor had quitted. 'I have wanted to know you; I admire you so much; I hoped so you would speak to-night. It's too lovely to see you, Mrs. Farrinder.' So she expressed herself, while the company watched the encounter with a look of refreshed inanition. 'You don't know who I am, of course; I'm just a girl who wants to thank you
