were formed in the earlier part of his life, when he was almost constantly abroad. His best friends in Washington are men in the legations who aren't obliged to adopt our reforms. Naturally, when he entertains them here, he doesn't wish to seem inhospitable or absurd, like poor dear Mr. Bryan. We don't ordinarily have wine on the table for our own guests—I mean outside the semiofficial connection. But just for to-night, as it's a holiday, and one of you is a pilgrim from the Mid-West, Oliver thought—we thought—that you would appreciate it if ambassadorial privileges were extended to you."
"I get the point perfectly," I said; "that's Oliver's point of view—or one of his points of view. But please let Janus defend himself. He will need practice before we Puritans are done with him. But now that the theme is before us, Cornelia, won't you give us the benefit of your own point of view?"
"My point of view?" Cornelia smiled her Mona Lisa smile. "I—oh, I am Oliver's wife!"
"I have often regretted that," I replied with a consciously provincial affectation of urban daring; "but knowing your strict old-fashioned convictions about marriage, I stifle my regrets.
