"Be seated, Miss Nimrod. Allow me to introduce Lord Silverdale—an old friend of mine."
"And of mine," replied Nelly, bowing with a sweet smile.
"Indeed!" cried Lillie flushing.
"In the spirit, only in the spirit," said Nelly. "His lordship's 'Poems of Passion' formed my sole reading in the deserts of China-Tartary."
"In the letter, you should say then," said the peer. "By the way, you are confusing me with a minor poet, Silverplume, and his book is not called Poems of Passion but Poems of Compassion."
"Ah well, there isn't much difference," said Nelly.
"No, according to the proverb Compassion is akin to Passion," admitted Silverdale.
"Well, Miss Nimrod," put in Lillie, "our object is easily defined. We are an association of young and beautiful girls devoted to celibacy in order to modify the meaning of the term 'Old Maid.'"
Nelly Nimrod started up enthusiastically.
"Bravo, old girl!" she cried, slapping the President on the back. "Put me down for a flag. I catch the conception of the campaign. It is magnificent."