never heard of. You mustn't say 'by the sweat of the brow,' but 'by the perspiration'—perspiration is refined and sweat is coarse and—to-day I learned for the first time that it's wrong to say 'Mrs. Henry Peterby of Plum Creek, née Jennie McCormick, spent Sunday with her parents of this city.' It looks right on the face of it, but it seems you mustn't say 'née' for the first name—only the last; though it means in French that that was her name before she was married. I tell you, that woman is a stickler. But what can I do?"
"Well, what can you do? Far be it from me to suggest that something must be done."
"Do you know, Cal, sometimes I've thought I'd adopt a tone with her?"
"Better be careful," I cautioned. Mrs. Potts was not a person that one should adopt a tone with except after long and prayerful deliberation.
"Oh, I've considered it long enough—in fact I've considered a lot of things. That woman has bothered me in more ways than one, I tell you frankly. She's such a fine woman, splendid-looking, capable, an intellectual giant—one, I may say, who makes no common errors—and yet—"
"Ah! and yet—?" There was then in Solon's eyes that curious reserve I had before noted—a reserve that hinted of some desperate but still secret design.
"Well, there you are."
"Where?"