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 She almost succeeded in winning his confidence. But not quite. He observed that her judgments about unsuccessful people, unless they were painfully religious and hypocritical, were just as bitter as ever.

At this time there returned to Westchester from Paris a rich Mrs. Ludlow. And she made it an immediate point to call upon her pastor and Mrs. Eaton to tell them all the wonderful things she had been hearing about their youngest son.

"All Paris is talking about him," she said. "I did my best to get hold of him so that I could bring you news direct; but he had gone out of town. I went to his studio, but he had rented it to a young woman and her mother—painters also, I gathered."

"Edward's here," said Mr. Eaton, "right here in this house."

Ever since her marriage to a large fortune, and especially since the decease of her husband, Mrs. Ludlow had hunted lions. Her eyelids fluttered. Her nostrils dilated. She was on the trail of still another.

"Oh, but I must see him! I must tell him myself what everybody is saying."

"I'll fetch him," said Mr. Eaton.

He took his time with the stairs—he always had to now—and found Edward in John's rooms.