took a fancy to the name when he met it in Hawthorne's story. You never
heard of them before because you have been always away from New York,
and when you were here they happened to be away. You know that half a
dozen women run this city, and my aunt, Mrs. Murray, is one of the
half-dozen. She is training Esther to take her place when she retires. I
want you to know my Uncle Dudley and my cousin. I am going to have a
little tea-party for them in my rooms, and you must help me with it."

Mr. Hazard asked only to have it put off until the week after the next
because of his engagements, and hardly had they fixed the day when
another caller appeared.

He was a man of their own age, so quiet and subdued in manner, and so
delicate in feature, that he would have been unnoticed in any ordinary
group, and shoved aside into a corner. He seemed to face life with an
effort; his light-brown eyes had an uneasy look as though they wanted to
rest on something that should be less hard and real than what they saw.
He was not handsome; his mouth was a little sensual; his yellowish beard
was ragged. He was apt to be silent until his shyness wore off, when he
became a rapid, nervous talker, full of theories and schemes, which he
changed from one day to another, but which were always quite complete
and convincing for the moment. At times he had long fits of moodiness
and would not open his mouth for days. At other times he sought society
and sat up all night talking, planning, discussing, drinking, smoking,
living on bread and cheese or whatever happened to be within reach, and
sleeping whenever he happened to feel in the humor for it. Rule or
method he had none, and his friends had for years given up the attempt
to control him. They took it for granted that he would soon kill himself
with his ill-regulated existence. Hazard thought that his lungs would
give way, and Strong insisted that his brain was the weak spot, and no