The old lady asked Bart if he knew the parties.
"Yes." And he straightened out the tangle of names.
"Was Julia a beauty?"
"Decidedly."
"And Bart?"
Well, he didn't think much of Bart and didn't want to speak of him. He thought the performance no great shakes, etc. The ladies were offended.
"No matter, Julia would marry him?"
"She would never think of it."
At Hiccox's somebody recognized Bart and told the old lady who he was.
"Oh, dear!" He wished he had walked to Jefferson and had a good mind to get out.