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I had not. Her driver gathered the reins and I drew back.

The patient gentleman smiled again as he said, "Oh--Gholson can attend to that."

"Richard Thorndyke Smith! My dear boy," she cried, while the nieces gasped at each other with gestures and looks all the way between Terpsichore and Melpomene, and then the four cried in chorus, "We know your mother!"

He said the proxy was a young woman who had a knack of getting passes through the lines, and the three girls exchanged looks as knowing as they were delighted.

"Well, I reckon I'll stop all night." I began to move on. His eyes followed greedily.

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