WhenImogenwenttoherroom，theguestshadbeguntoreturnfromtheirvariousafternoonexcursions。Boyswereglidingthroughthehallswithicewater，coveredtrays，andflowers，collidingwithmaidsandvaletswhocarriedshoesandotherarticlesofwearingapparel。Yet，allthiswasdoneinresponsetoinaudiblebells，onfeltsoles，andinhushedvoices，sothattherewasverylittleconfusionaboutit。
Flaviahadatlastbuiltherhouseandhewnouthersevenpillars；therecouldbenodoubt，now，thattheasylumfortalent，thesanatoriumofthearts，solongprojected，wasanaccomplishedfact。HerambitionhadlongagooutgrownthedimensionsofherhouseonPrairieAvenue；besides，shehadbitterlycomplainedthatinChicagotraditionswereagainsther。
HerprojecthadbeendelayedbyArthur’sdoggedlystandingoutfortheMichiganwoods，butFlaviaknewwellenoughthatcertainoftheraraeaves——“thebest“——couldnotbeluredsofarawayfromtheseaport，soshedeclaredherselfforthehistoricHudsonandknewnoretreat。TheestablishingofaNewYorkofficehadatlengthoverthrownArthur’slastvalidobjectiontoquittingthelakecountryforthreemonthsoftheyear；andArthurcouldbeweariedintoanything，asthosewhoknewhimknew。
Flavia’shousewasthemirrorofherexultation；itwasatempletothegodsofVictory，asortoftriumphalarch。Inherearlierdaysshehadswallowedexperiencesthatwouldhaveunmannedoneoflesstorrentialenthusiasmorblindpertinacity。
But，oflateyears，herdeterminationhadtold；shesawlessandlessofthosemysteriouspersonswithmysteriousobstaclesintheirpathandmysteriousgrievancesagainsttheworld，whohadoncefrequentedherhouseonPrairieAvenue。Inthesteadofthismultitudeoftheunarrived，shehadnowthefew，theselect，“thebest。“OfallthatbandofindigentretainerswhohadoncefedatherboardlikethesuitorsinthehallsofPenelope，onlyAlceeBuissonstillretainedhisrightofentree。Healonehadrememberedthatambitionhathaknapsackathisback，whereinheputsalmstooblivion，andhealonehadbeenconsiderateenoughtodowhatFlaviahadexpectedofhim，andgivehisnameacurrentvalueintheworld。Then，asMissBroadwoodputit，“hewasherfirstrealone，“——andFlavia，likeMohammed，couldrememberherfirstbeliever。
“TheHouseofSong，“asMissBroadwoodhadcalledit，wastheoutcomeofFlavia’smoreexaltedstrategies。Awomanwhomadelessapointofsympathizingwiththeirdelicateorganisms，mighthavesoughttoplungethesephosphorescentpiecesintothetepidbathofdomesticlife；butFlavia’sdiscernmentwasdeeper。
Thismustbearefugewheretheshrinkingsoul，thesensitivebrain，shouldbeunconstrained；wherethecapriceoffancyshouldoutweighthecivilcode，ifnecessary。SheconsideredthatthismuchArthurowedher；forshe，inherturn，hadmadeconcessions。
Flaviahad，indeed，quiteanequipmentofepigramstotheeffectthatourcenturycreatestheirongeniiwhichevolveitsfairytales:butthefactthatherhusband’snamewasannuallypainteduponsometenthousandthreshingmachinesinrealitycontributedverylittletoherhappiness。
ArthurHamiltonwasbornandhadspenthisboyhoodintheWestIndies，andphysicallyhehadneverlostthebrandofthetropics。Hisfather，afterinventingthemachinewhichborehisname，hadreturnedtotheStatestopatentandmanufactureit。
Afterleavingcollege，ArthurhadspentfiveyearsranchingintheWestandtravelingabroad。Uponhisfather’sdeathhehadreturnedtoChicagoand，totheastonishmentofallhisfriends，hadtakenupthebusiness——withoutanydemonstrationofenthusiasm，butwithquietperseverance，markedability，andamazingindustry。Whyorhowaself-sufficient，ratherasceticmanofthirty，indifferentinmanner，whollynegativeinallotherpersonalrelations，shouldhavedoggedlywooedandfinallymarriedFlaviaMalcolmwasaproblemthathadvexedolderheadsthanImogen’s。
WhileImogenwasdressingsheheardaknockatherdoor，andayoungwomanenteredwhomsheatoncerecognizedasJemimaBroadwood——“Jimmy“Broadwoodshewascalledbypeopleinherownprofession。Whiletherewassomethingunmistakablyprofessionalinherfranksavoir-faire，“Jimmy’s“wasoneofthosefacestowhichtherougeneverseemstostick。HereyeswerekeenandgrayasawindyAprilsky，andsofarfromhavingbeensearedbycalciumlights，youmighthavefanciedtheyhadneverlookedonanythinglessbucolicthangrowingfieldsandcountryfairs。Sheworeherthick，brownhairshortandpartedattheside；and，ratherthanhintingatfreakishness，thisseemedadmirablyinkeepingwithherfresh，boyishcountenance。SheextendedtoImogenalarge，well-shapedhandwhichitwasapleasuretoclasp。
“Ah！YouareMissWillard，andIseeIneednotintroducemyself。Flaviasaidyouwerekindenoughtoexpressawishtomeetme，andIpreferredtomeetyoualone。DoyoumindifI
smoke？“
“Why，certainlynot，“saidImogen，somewhatdisconcertedandlookinghurriedlyaboutformatches。
“There，becalm，I’malwaysprepared，“saidMissBroadwood，checkingImogen’sflurrywithasoothinggesture，andproducinganoddlyfashionedsilvermatch-casefromsomemysteriousrecessinherdinnergown。Shesatdowninadeepchair，crossedherpatent-leatherOxfords，andlithercigarette。“Thismatchbox，“
shewentonmeditatively，“oncebelongedtoaPrussianofficer。
Heshothimselfinhisbathtub，andIboughtitatthesaleofhiseffects。“
Imogenhadnotyetfoundanysuitablereplytomaketothisratherirrelevantconfidence，whenMissBroadwoodturnedtohercordially:“I’mawfullygladyou’vecome，MissWillard，thoughI’venotquitedecidedwhyyoudidit。Iwantedverymuchtomeetyou。
Flaviagavemeyourthesistoread。“
“Why，howfunny！“ejaculatedImogen。
“Onthecontrary，“remarkedMissBroadwood。“Ithoughtitdecidedlylackedhumor。“
“Imeant，“stammeredImogen，beginningtofeelverymuchlikeAliceinWonderland，“ImeantthatIthoughtitratherstrangeMrs。Hamiltonshouldfancyyouwouldbeinterested。“
MissBroadwoodlaughedheartily。“Now，don’tletmyrudenessfrightenyou。Really，Ifounditveryinteresting，andnoendimpressive。Yousee，mostpeopleinmyprofessionaregoodforabsolutelynothingelse，and，therefore，theyhaveadeepandabidingconvictionthatinsomeotherlinetheymighthaveshone。Strangetosay，scholarshipistheobjectofourenviousandparticularadmiration。Anythingintypeimpressesusgreatly；that’swhysomanyofusmarryauthorsornewspapermenandleadmiserablelives。“MissBroadwoodsawthatshehadratherdisconcertedImogen，andblithelytackedinanotherdirection。
“Yousee，“shewenton，tossingasideherhalf-consumedcigarette，“someyearsagoFlaviawouldnothavedeemedmeworthytoopenthepagesofyourthesis——nortobeoneofherhousepartyofthechosen，forthatmatter。I’vePinerotothankforbothpleasures。ItalldependsontheclassofbusinessI’mplayingwhetherI’minfavorornot。Flaviaismysecondcousin，youknow，soIcansaywhateverdisagreeablethingsIchoosewithperfectgoodgrace。I’mquitedesperateforsomeonetolaughwith，soI’mgoingtofastenmyselfuponyou——for，ofcourse，onecan’texpectanyofthesegypsy-dagopeopletoseeanythingfunny。Idon’tintendyoushalllosethehumorofthesituation。
WhatdoyouthinkofFlavia’sinfirmaryforthearts，anyway？“
“Well，it’srathertoosoonformetohaveanyopinionatall，“saidImogen，assheagainturnedtoherdressing。“Sofar，youaretheonlyoneoftheartistsI’vemet。“
“Oneofthem？“echoedMissBroadwood。“Oneoftheartists？
Myoffensemayberank，mydear，butIreallydon’tdeservethat。Come，now，whateverbadgesofmytribeImaybearuponme，justletmedivestyouofanynotionthatItakemyselfseriously。“
Imogenturnedfromthemirrorinblankastonishmentandsatdownonthearmofachair，facinghervisitor。“Ican’tfathomyouatall，MissBroadwood，“shesaidfrankly。“Whyshouldn’tyoutakeyourselfseriously？What’stheuseofbeatingaboutthebush？Surelyyouknowthatyouareoneofthefewplayersonthissideofthewaterwhohaveatallthespiritofnaturaloringenuouscomedy？“
“Thankyou，mydear。Nowwearequiteevenaboutthethesis，aren’twe？Oh，didyoumeanit？Well，youareaclevergirl。Butyouseeitdoesn’tdotopermitoneselftolookatitinthatlight。Ifwedo，wealwaysgotopiecesandwasteoursubstanceastarringastheunhappydaughteroftheCapulets。Butthere，IhearFlaviacomingtotakeyoudown；andjustrememberI’mnotoneofthem——theartists，Imean。“
FlaviaconductedImogenandMissBroadwooddownstairs。Astheyreachedthelowerhalltheyheardvoicesfromthemusicroom，anddimfigureswerelurkingintheshadowsunderthegallery，buttheirhostessledstraighttothesmokingroom。TheJuneeveningwaschilly，andafirehadbeenlightedinthefireplace。Throughthedeepeningdusk，thefirelightflickereduponthepipesandcuriousweaponsonthewallandthrewanorangeglowovertheTurkishhangings。Onesideofthesmokingroomwasentirelyofglass，separatingitfromtheconservatory，whichwasfloodedwithwhitelightfromtheelectricbulbs。
TherewasaboutthedarkenedroomsomesuggestionofcertainchambersintheArabianNights，openingonacourtofpalms。
Perhapsitwaspartiallythismemory-evokingsuggestionthatcausedImogentostartsoviolentlywhenshesawdimly，inablurofshadow，thefigureofaman，whosatsmokinginalow，deepchairbeforethefire。Hewaslong，andthin，andbrown。Hislong，nervelesshandsdroopedfromthearmsofhischair。A
brownmustacheshadedhismouth，andhiseyesweresleepyandapathetic。WhenImogenenteredheroseindolentlyandgaveherhishand，hismannerbarelycourteous。
“Iamgladyouarrivedpromptly，MissWillard，“hesaidwithanindifferentdrawl。“Flaviawasafraidyoumightbelate。Youhadapleasantrideup，Ihope？“
“Oh，very，thankyou，Mr。Hamilton，“shereplied，feelingthathedidnotparticularlycarewhethersherepliedatall。
Flaviaexplainedthatshehadnotyethadtimetodressfordinner，asshehadbeenattendingtoMr。WillMaidenwood，whohadbecomefaintafterhurtinghisfingerinanobduratewindow，andimmediatelyexcusedherselfAssheleft，HamiltonturnedtoMissBroadwoodwitharatherspiritlesssmile。