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 make a complete toilet, when a white hand moved the curtain from a doorway, and noiselessly and gently Madame Koller entered.

She was heartily glad to see them—their call was not very prompt, but it would have been a cruel mortification had they omitted to come. Olivia's hand she pressed—so she did the Colonel's—and also Mr. Cole's, who colored quite violently, although he struggled for self-possession.

"We are very glad you have come," said Olivia, with her sweetest affability, "you will be a great acquisition to the neighborhood. You see, I am already beginning to think more of our own neighborhood than all the rest of the universe."

"Thank you for your kindness," answered Madame Koller, with equal cordiality. The two women, however, did not cease to examine each other like gladiators.

"And Mr. Cole, I think you were not here when I lived at The Beeches as a girl."

"No, madam," replied Mr. Cole, who had now shaded from a red to a pink.

"And did I not have the pleasure of seeing you at the Campdown races the other day?"

Mr. Cole turned pale and nearly dropped off his chair. The Colonel roared out his pleasant cheery laugh.

"No madam, you did not." Mr. Cole made his denial so emphatic that he was ashamed of himself for it afterwards.

"But you, Miss Berkeley, were there. My cousin