Logan), there is, let me see, there is the Dowager.'

'The divine Althaea--Marchioness of Bowton?'

'The same,' said Merton. 'The oldest woman, and the most recklessly up-
to-date in London. She has seen _bien d'autres_, and wants to see more.'

'She will do; and my aunt,' Logan said.

'Not, oh, of course not, the one who left her money to the Armenians?'
Merton asked.

'No, another. And there's old Lochmaben's young wife, my cousin, widely
removed, by marriage. She is American, you know, and perhaps you know
her book, _Social Experiments_?'

'Yes, it is not half bad,' Merton conceded, 'and her heart will be in
what I fear she will call "the new departure." And she is pretty, and
highly respected in the parish.'

'And there's my aunt I spoke of, or great aunt, Miss Nicky Maxwell. The
best old thing: a beautiful monument of old gentility, and she would give
her left hand to help any one of the clan.'

'She will do. And there's Mrs. Brown-Smith, Lord Yarrow's daughter, who
married the patent soap man. _Elle est capable de tout_. A real good
woman, but full of her fun.'

'That will do for the lady patronesses. We must secure them at once.'