here whom we know except Mrs. Nailor. I have heard that the people are
very interesting if you can get at them. I'll invite him first to
luncheon Saturday, and see how he is."

It is, doubtless, just as well that none of us has the magic mirror
which we used to read of in our childhood, which showed what any one we
wished to know about was doing. It would, no doubt, cause many
perplexities from which, in our ignorance, we are happily free. Had
Gordon Keith known the terms on which he was invited to take a meal in
the presence of Mrs. Yorke, he would have been incensed. He had been
fuming about her condescension ever since he had met her; yet he no
sooner received her polite note than he was in the best humor possible.
He brushed up his well-worn clothes, treated himself to a new necktie,
which he had been saving all the session, and just at the appointed hour
presented himself with a face so alight with expectancy, and a manner
which, while entirely modest, was so natural and easy, that Mrs. Yorke
was astonished. She could scarcely credit the fact that this bright-eyed
young man, with his fine nose, firm chin, and melodious voice, was the
same with the dusty, hot-faced, dishevelled-looking country boy to whom
she had thought of offering money for a kindness two days before.

When Keith first entered the room Alice Yorke was seated in a
reclining-chair, enveloped in soft white, from which she gave him a
smiling greeting. For years afterwards, whenever Gordon Keith thought of
beauty it was of a girl smiling up at him out of a cloud of white. It
was a charming visit for him, and he reproached himself for his hard
thoughts about Mrs. Yorke. He aired all of his knowledge, and made such
a favorable impression on the good lady that she became very friendly
with him. He did not know that Mrs. Yorke's kindness to him was
condescension, and her cordiality inspired as much by curiosity