licked the marble steps of those mansions to be admitted to sit at their dinner-tables and have their names appear in the Sunday issues of the newly established society journals among the blessed few.  So, as soon as it appeared that Gordon was not only an acquaintance, but a friend of these critical leaders, women who had looked over his head as they drove up the avenue, and had just tucked their chins and lowered their eyelids when he had been presented, began to give him invitations.  Among these was Mrs. Nailor.  Truly, the world appeared warmer and kinder than Keith had thought.

To be sure, it was at Mrs. Lancaster’s that Mrs. Nailor met him, and Keith was manifestly on very friendly terms with the pretty widow.  Even Mrs. Yorke, who was present on the occasion with her “heart,” was impressively cordial to him.  Mrs. Nailor had no idea of being left out.  She almost gushed with affection, as she made a place beside her on a divan.

“You do not come to see all your friends,” she said, with her winningest smile and her most bird-like voice.  “You appear to forget that you have other old friends in New York besides Mrs. Lancaster and Mrs. Yorke.  Alice dear, you must not be selfish and engross all his time.  You must let him come and see me, at least, sometimes.  Yes?” This with a peculiarly innocent smile and tone.

Keith declared that he was in New York very rarely, and Mrs. Lancaster, with a slightly heightened color, repudiated the idea that she had anything to do with his movements.

“Oh, I hear of you here very often,” declared Mrs. Nailor, roguishly.  “I have a little bird that brings me all the news about my friends.”

“A little bird, indeed!” said Alice to herself, and to Keith later.  “I’ll be bound she has not.  If she had a bird, the old cat would have eaten it.”

“You are going to the Creamers’ ball, of course?” pursued Mrs. Nailor.

No, Keith said:  he was not going; he had been in New York only two days, and, somehow, his advent had been overlooked.  He was always finding himself disappointed by discovering that New York was still a larger place than New Leeds.

“Oh, but you must go!  We must get you an invitation, mustn’t we, Alice?” Mrs. Nailor was always ready to promise anything, provided she could make her engagement in partnership and then slip out and leave the performance to her friend.

“Why, yes; there is not the least trouble about getting an invitation.  Mrs. Nailor can get you one easily.”

Keith looked acquiescent.

“No, my dear; you write the note.  You know Mrs. Creamer every bit as well as I,” protested Mrs. Nailor, “and I have already asked for at least a dozen.  There are Mrs. Wyndham and Lady Stobbs, who were here last winter; and that charming Lord Huckster, who was at Newport last summer; and I don’t know how many more—­so you will have to get the invitation for Mr. Keith.”

Keith, with some amusement, declared that he did not wish any trouble taken; he had only said he would go because Mrs. Nailor had appeared to desire it so much.