Maitland sat down, and said he thought one of those hoop-skirted, ringleted damsels would be a good deal of a peach. "You see the photographs of 'em in old albums, and they certainly were pretty things."
"Howard, Freddy Payton's going into business. Did you know it?"
"Yes; she's a wonder!"
"She is," the other man agreed, dryly.
"I was talking to Laura Childs about her last night, and she told me how tough it was for her at home,—you know?"
Mr. Weston nodded.
"And her mother is an anti!" Howard said, sympathetically. "I've only seen Mrs. Payton once or twice, but it struck me she was the anti type. Not very exciting to live with."
"She does show considerable cerebral quietude," Weston admitted, chuckling.
"Did you ever make a call in the Payton house, and see old Andy Payton's silk hat on the hat-rack?"
"I have. But I'm not afraid of it;—there are no brains in it now."