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 *ing him to the easiest chair, and putting her feet comfortably on a footstool.

"Do you think you'll like it?" asked Pembroke.

"That's just what I was going to ask you."

"You mustn't ask me. You know Congressmen are received in society only on sufferance. I exist on the borders as it were, and am permitted to dwell there in spite of, not because I am a Congressman."

Olivia smiled and nodded her head.

"I know how it is," she said, "I've heard."

"Now what do you want to do first?"

"I think," said Olivia, propping her rounded chin on her hand, "I should like to go to a ball. I have not been to a real ball for six years—not since we left Paris. You may be surprised at this frivolity in one of my years—you know I am getting out of my twenties awfully fast—but it is still a fact."

"Your age is certainly imposing. There is a superb ball to be given at the Russian Legation next week—the Minister is a new man—just come. I received a card, and I can get one for you and your father through one of the secretaries of legation who is my friend."

Pembroke produced a handsome invitation card, bearing the name of the Russian Minister and Madame Volkonsky.

Olivia's eyes sparkled. She loved balls as the normal girl always does.

"And I shall go out to-morrow morning and buy a ball gown. Shall I have white tulle and water lilies, or peach-blow satin?"