No. 13 Washington Square | Page 3

It is a very happy combination for traveling."
"She seems almost too good to be true," mused Olivetta. "She's really
very pretty. I hope Jack hasn't--"
"Olivetta! How can you! Jack has never paid her the slightest attention,
nor she him."
"Pardon me, Caroline! But she's so pretty, and she's just the sort of girl
who attracts men--and--and"--a bit wistfully--"gets engaged and gets
married."
"Nonsense, Olivetta. When she first came to me I asked her if she were
in love or engaged. She said she was not, and I told her my rules. She is
a very sensible girl."
"At any rate, she must be a great relief after that Marie you had."
Mrs. De Peyster flushed, as though at some disagreeable memory.
"Have you learned yet whether Marie was actually a spy for Mrs.
Allistair?" inquired Olivetta.
"She confessed that she was getting money besides the wages I paid her.

That is proof enough."
"I believe it of Mrs. Allistair! She wouldn't stop at anything to win your
place as social leader. But she could never fill it!"
"She will never win it!" Mrs. De Peyster returned with calm
confidence.
At that moment the door from the hallway opened and there entered a
woman of middle age, in respectable dull-hued black, with apron of
black silk and a white cap.
"Ah, Matilda," remarked Mrs. De Peyster. "The servants, are they all
gone yet?"
"The last one, the cook, is just going, ma'am. There's just William and
me left. And the men have already come to board up the windows and
the door."
"You paid the servants board wages as I instructed, and made clear to
them about coming to Newport when I send orders?"
"Yes, ma'am. And they all understand."
"Good," said Mrs. De Peyster. "You have Mr. Jack's trunks packed?"
"All except a few things he may want to put in himself."
"Very well. You may now continue helping Miss Gardner with my
things."
But Matilda did not obey. She trembled--blinked her eyes--choked;
then stammered:--
"Please, ma'am, there's--there's something else."
"Something else?" queried Mrs. De Peyster.
"Yes, ma'am. Downstairs there are six or seven young men from the

newspapers. They want--"
"Matilda," interrupted Mrs. De Peyster in stern reproof, "you are well
enough acquainted with my invariable custom regarding reporters to
have acted without referring this matter to me. It is a distinct
annoyance," she added, "that one cannot make a single move without
the newspapers following one!"
"Indeed it is!" echoed the worshipful and indignant Olivetta. "But that
is because of your position."
"I tried to send them away," said Matilda hurriedly. "And I told them
you were never interviewed. But," she ended helplessly, "it didn't do
any good. They're all sitting downstairs waiting."
"I shall not see them," Mrs. De Peyster declared firmly.
"There was one," Matilda added timorously, "who drew me aside and
whispered that he didn't want an interview. He wants your picture."
"Wants my picture!" exclaimed Mrs. De Peyster.
"Yes, ma'am. He said the pictorial supplement of his paper a week from
Sunday was going to have a page of pictures of prominent society
women who were sailing for Europe. He said something about calling
the page 'Annual Exodus of Social Leaders.' He wants to print that
painting of you by that new foreign artist in the center of the page."
And Matilda pointed above the fireplace to a gold-framed likeness of
Mrs. De Peyster--stately, aloof, remote, of an ineffable composure, a
masterpiece of blue-bloodedness.
"You know my invariable custom; give him my invariable answer,"
was Mrs. De Peyster's crisp response.
"Pardon me, but--but, Cousin Caroline," put in Olivetta, with eager
diffidence, "don't you think this is different?"
"Different?" asked Mrs. De Peyster. "How?"

"This isn't at all like the ordinary offensive newspaper thing. A group
of the most prominent social leaders, with you in the center of the
page--with you in the center of them all, where you belong! Why,
Caroline,--why--why--" In her excitement for the just glorification of
her cousin, Olivetta's power of speech went fluttering from her.
"Perhaps it may not be quite the same," admitted Mrs. De Peyster. "But
I see no reason for departing from my custom."
"If not for your own sake, then--then for the artist's sake!" Olivetta
pursued, a little more eagerly, and a little more of diffidence in her
eagerness. "You have taken up M. Dubois--you have been his most
distinguished patron--you have been trying to get him properly started.
To have his picture displayed like that, think how it will help M.
Dubois!"
Mrs. De Peyster gave Olivetta a sharp look, as though she questioned
the entire disinterestedness of this argument; then she considered an
instant; and in the main it was her human instinct to help a struggling
fellow being that dictated her decision.
"Matilda, you