My hostess now bowed slightly. "I am glad that you find her charming."

"Indeed, yes!" I exclaimed.

"We, also, are pleased with her. She is of good family--for the
up-country."

Once again our alphabet fails me. The peculiar shade of kindness, of
recognition, of patronage, which my agreeable hostess (and all Kings Port
ladies, I soon noticed) imparted to the word "up-country" cannot be
conveyed except by the human voice--and only a Kings Port voice at that.
It is a much lighter damnation than what they make of the phrase "from
Georgia," which I was soon to hear uttered by the lips of the lady. "And
so you know about his wedding cake?"

"My dear madam, I feel that I shall know about everything."

Her gray eyes looked at me quietly for a moment. "That is possible. But
although we may talk of ourselves to you, we scarcely expect you to talk
of ourselves to us."

Well, my pertness had brought me this quite properly! And I received it
properly. "I should never dream--" I hastened to say; "even without your
warning. I find I'm expected to have seen the young lady of his choice,"
I now threw out. My accidental words proved as miraculous as the staff
which once smote the rock. It was a stream, indeed, which now broke forth
from her stony discretion. She began easily. "It is evident that you have
not seen Miss Rieppe by the manner in which you allude to her--although
of course, in comparison with my age, she is a young girl." I think that
this caused me to open my mouth.