Nobody. Warner Susan

was the unpromisingopening remark.

      "Mrs. Wishart keeps me."

      "Do you often come to visit her?"

      "I was never here before."

      "Then this is your first acquain'tance with New York?"

      "Yes."

      "How does it strike you? One loves to get at new impressions of whatone has known all one's life. Nothing strikes us here, I suppose. Dotell me what strikes you."

      "I might say, everything."

      "How delightful! Nothing strikes me. I have seen it all five hundredtimes. Nothing is new."

      "But people are new," said Lois. "I mean they are different from oneanother. There is continual variety there."

      "To me there seems continual sameness!" said the other, with a halfshutting up of her eyes, as of one dazed with monotony. "They are allalike. I know beforehand exactly what every one will say to me, and howevery one will behave."

      "That is not how it is at home," returned Lois. "It is different there."

      "People are not all alike?"

      "No indeed. Perfectly unlike, and individual."

      "How agreeable! So that is one of the things that strike you here? thecontrast?"

      "No," said Lois, laughing; "I find here the same variety that I findat home. People are not alike to me."

      "But different, I suppose, from the varieties you are accustomed to athome?"

      Lois admitted that.

      "Well, now tell me how. I have never travelled in New England; I havetravelled everywhere else. Tell me, won't you, how those whom you seehere differ from the people you see at home."

      "In the same sort of way that a sea-gull differs from a land sparrow,"

      Lois answered demurely.

      "I don't understand. Are we like the sparrows, or like the gulls?"

      "I do not know that. I mean merely that the different sorts are fittedto different spheres and ways of life."

      Miss Caruthers looked a little curiously at the girl. "I know this sphere," she said. "I want you to tell me yours."

      "It is free space instead of narrow streets, and clear air instead ofsmoke. And the people all have something to do, and are doing it."

      "And you think we are doing nothing?" asked Miss Caruthers, laughing.

      "Perhaps I am mistaken. It seems to me so."

      "O, you are mistaken. We work hard. And yet, since I went to school, Inever had anything that I must do, in my life."

      "That can be only because you did not know what it was."

      "I had nothing that I must do."

      "But nobody is put in this world without some thing to do," said Lois."Do you think a good watchmaker would carefully make and finish a verycostly pin or wheel, and put it in the works of his watch to donothing?"

      Miss Caruthers stared now at the girl. Had this soft, innocent-lookingmaiden absolutely dared to read a lesson to her? – "You are religious!"she remarked dryly.

      Lois neither affirmed nor denied it. Her eye roved over the gatheringthrong; the rustle of silks, the shimmer of lustrous satin, the fallsof lace, the drapery of one or two magnificent camels'-hair shawls, thecarefully dressed heads, the carefully gloved hands; for the ladies didnot keep on their bonnets then; and the soft murmur of voices, which, however, did not remain soft. It waxed and grew, rising and falling, until the room was filled with a breaking sea of sound. Miss Caruthershad been called off to attend to other guests, and then came to conductLois herself to the dining-room.

      The party was large, the table was long; and it was a mass of glitterand glisten with plate and glass. A superb old-fashioned épergne in themiddle, great dishes of flowers sending their perfumed breath throughthe room, and bearing their delicate exotic witness to the luxury thatreigned in the house. And not they alone. Before each guest's plate asemicircular wreath of flowers stood, seemingly upon the tablecloth; but Lois made the discovery that the stems were safe in water increscent-shaped glass dishes, like little troughs, which the flowerscompletely covered up and hid. Her own special wreath was ofheliotropes. Miss Caruthers had placed her next herself.

      There were no gentlemen present, nor expected, Lois observed. It wassimply a company of ladies, met apparently for the purpose of eating; for that business went on for some time with a degree of satisfaction, and a supply of means to afford satisfaction, which Lois had never seenequalled. From one delicate and delicious thing to another she wasrequired to go, until she came to a stop; but that was the case, sheobserved, with no one else of the party.

      "You do not drink wine?" asked Miss Caruthers civilly.

      "No, thank you."

      "Have you scruples?" said the young lady, with a half smile.

      Lois assented.

      "Why? what's the harm?"

      "We all have scruples at Shampuashuh."

      "About drinking wine?"

      "Or cider, or beer, or anything of the sort."

      "Do tell me why."

      "It does so much mischief."

      "Among low people," said Miss Caruthers, opening her eyes; "but notamong respectable people."

      "We are willing to hinder mischief anywhere," said Lois with a smile ofsome fun.

      "But what good does your not drinking it do? That will not hinderthem."

      "It does hinder them, though," said Lois; "for we will not have liquorshops. And so, we have no crime in the town. We could leave our doorsunlocked, with perfect safety, if it were not for the people that comewandering through from the next towns, where liquor is sold. We have nocrime, and no poverty; or next to none."

      "Bless me! what an agreeable state of things! But that need not hinderyour taking a glass of champagne here? Everybody here has no scruple, and there are liquor shops at every corner; there is no use in settingan example."

      But Lois declined the wine.

      "A cup of coffee then?"

      Lois accepted the coffee.

      "I think you know my brother?" observed Miss Caruthers then, making herobservations as she spoke.

      "Mr. Caruthers? yes; I believe he is your brother."

      "I have heard him speak of you. He has seen you at Mrs. Wishart's, Ithink."

      "At Mrs. Wishart's – yes."

      Lois spoke naturally, yet Miss Caruthers fancied she could discern acertain check to the flow of her words.

      "You could not be in a better place for seeing what New York is like, for everybody goes to Mrs. Wishart's; that is, everybody who isanybody."

      This did not seem to Lois to require any answer. Her eye went over thelong tableful; went from face to face. Everybody was talking, nearlyeverybody was smiling. Why not? If enjoyment would make them smile, where could more means of enjoyment be heaped up, than at this feast?Yet Lois could not help thinking that the tokens of realpleasure-taking were not unequivocal. She was having a very goodtime; full of amusement; to the others it was an old story. Of whatuse, then?

      Miss Caruthers had been engaged in a lively battle of words with someof her young companions; and now her attention came back to Lois, whosemeditative, amused expression struck her.

      "I am sure," she said, "you are philosophizing! Let me have the resultsof your observations, do! What do your eyes see, that mine perhaps donot?"

      "I cannot tell," said Lois. "Yours ought to know it all."

      "But you know, we do not see what we have always seen."

      "Then I have an advantage," said Lois pleasantly. "My eyes seesomething very pretty."

      "But you were criticizing something. – O you unlucky boy!"

      This