"What can bring so industrious a man as Dr. Maccanfrae to the opera?" said Florence as the Doctor took the seat beside her.
"The opera itself, Miss Florence. I am devoted to music and never lose an opportunity of hearing it well rendered. Isn't Tamagno doing grandly to-night?"
Her reply was interrupted by the appearance of a tall, plainly dressed woman, who, pencil and paper in hand, entered the box door. Her face was refined, though careworn, and bore the mark of better days. She hesitated for a moment, as though realizing fully her intrusive calling, then advanced toward Duncan. "May I ask you, sir, to give the names of your party for the Morning Stentor?" she finally said.
"What does she mean?" said Duncan, turning to Mrs. Sanderson for an explanation.
"It is one of the peculiarities of Chicago life," she replied. "It is for to-morrow's society column."
"And do you give them the information?" he asked.
"O, yes, it is better to have it right, as they publish it anyway, right or wrong," she replied, and then she told the reporter the names.
"Might I trouble you to describe your dress?" was the next question asked. "I am sorry to be so intrusive, but it is the city editor's orders, and we have to do the best we can."
"You are a woman, and understand such matters, so I think you had better do that yourself," Mrs. Sanderson replied.
The reporter thanked her and withdrew. When she had gone Duncan said wonderingly: "We have society reporters in New York, but they never go quite so far as to ask one to describe oneself. Who reads such particulars anyway?"