"They are beautiful. Did brother actually remember to have such a sweet substitute sent you on your first lonely evening? I am proud of him. What else interesting has happened?"
"Nothing, I think. Gorham received a characteristic letter from Robert just before he left. He gave it to me to keep, with one that came from Hilda. Perhaps you would like to see it?"
"Indeed, I would. Nice, jolly Mr. Page! I wish they lived next door."
Mildred took the letter Clover handed her. "I'm going to read it aloud. It probably says nice things about you.
"DEAR GORHAM,—So you have won that sweet woman! Blessings on you, my boy! I may be partial, but I believe you are somewhere near good enough for her. Truth compels me to state, however, that your gain is my loss, owing to the overweening satisfaction it is to Hilda. In an evil moment, I underrated her prescience when she prophesied this happy event, and the consequence is that I am considering living at the club until the first blush of her triumph passes over. It flavors the matutinal oatmeal and the after-dinner coffee. I cannot indulge in a short nap without encountering a tall nightmare in which the wife of my bosom pops out from unexpected corners and ejaculates 'I told you so.' She sits opposite me now, writing a letter to go with this. I know those are burning words that are growing with such swiftness. I can almost hear the paper hiss. However, I am just as pleased as she is. Please give Clover my love,—you see I am not slow to use my privilege in naming her,—and tell her I am sure the world will be a better place for such a home as you and she will make in it. Indeed, I feel more than I can say on the subject.
"With kind regards to all,
"Your brother,
"ROBERT."
With the early autumn came the Parliament of Religions,—the congress which, among the many that preceded and followed it, proved, to the general surprise, to be the one of greatest interest to the public. Miss Berry was indefatigable in her attendance; and her young ladies were often with her. The names of those Orientals, whose words she listened to as to music, were impracticable to her; but their dark faces and graceful gestures were fixed in her mind forever. Aunt Love was one of thousands whose complacent generalization of "the heathen" received a blow.
Clover did her share in the entertaining of some of these scholarly delegates from the far East; and Mildred found a totally novel sauce piquante in the society of a handsome coffee-colored Indian, who wore a pink silk turban and mouse-colored robe, and talked transcendental philosophy in the purest English while gazing at her from long, beautiful eyes.