MR. SOMERS came at eleven, the next morning, and Margaret received him in the drawing-room alone. She had given orders that she should be denied to any early visitors who might be coming in, and was resolved that she would be just and patient with the young man, though she was also resolved that the nature of their relationship should be definitely settled and understood, during this interview.  
They had not been seated long when Margaret heard Louis Gaston’s voice speaking to a servant in the hall. She looked up in surprise, as she had supposed him to be at his office an hour ago. He came in, with his overcoat on, and his hat in his hand, and when Margaret presented him to Mr. Somers he cordially offered him his disengaged hand. Margaret was struck with the contrast between the two general , as she had been the night before, but she was not a ashamed of her old friend. She told herself that no man with eyes in his head could fail to see that Somers was a gentleman, and, for the rest, it did not matter.
 
“I learned from my sister-in-law,” said Louis, addressing Mr. Somers, “that Miss Trevennon was receiving a visit from a friend from home; and Mrs. Gaston has me to come and engage you for dinner to-day, if you have no other appointment. I hope you will be able to come.”
 
Margaret, glancing at Mr. Somers, was to see that he looked decidedly ungracious. She saw, by his manner, that he suspected that this smooth-spoken Yankee was going to patronize him, though nothing could have been franker and less patronizing than Gaston’s whole bearing.
 
“Thank you,” Mr. Somers answered, rather , “I have another engagement.”
 
Louis expressed the hope that he would give them another day while he was in Washington, and asked for his address, saying that he would call upon him.
 
Mr. Somers, having a impression that to hand his card was the proper thing, and not wishing to be outdone in savoir-faire, in his pocket and produced a tumbled envelope, out of which he drew a visiting-card of proportions. Margaret glanced at it quickly, and saw, to her horror, that it was printed! In the midst of a wide expanse of pasteboard was C. R. Somers, in aggressive German type. She smiled to herself, as she made a swift mental comparison between this card and another—a pure-white little affair, with Mr. Louis Gaston on it in quiet script. She knew well what Gaston was thinking of Charley, as he waited quietly while the latter wrote his address and handed him the cumbrous card with rather a bad grace, and she knew as well what Charley, as he off the street, and number of his friend’s house, was thinking of Mr. Gaston. It was all very absurd, and she could not help feeling and perhaps looking amused.
 
Louis lingered to make a few more friendly , but these were so loftily received by Mr. Somers that he soon found it best to take leave, and, with a pleasant “Au revoir” to both, he turned and left the room.
 
“A French-talking, phrase-turning dandy!” said Charley, as soon as his back was turned. “I wonder that you can tolerate such a man, Margaret.”
 
“It would be interesting to his opinion of you,” returned Margaret. “If he puts no higher estimate on your conduct on this occasion than I do, perhaps it is as well for us to remain in ignorance of it.”
 
“And do you suppose I care one penny for his opinion? If you do, you are much mistaken. I was obliged to give my address when he asked for it, but I hope he’ll not trouble himself to call. I have no desire to improve his acquaintance.”
 
“And yet you might find it not only pleasant but profitable,” said Margaret. “There are many things that you might, with great benefit, learn from him.”
 
“Upon my word, Margaret, this is a little too much,” exclaimed Somers. “You have abandoned and your own people in a very short while, when you can talk of my learning from a Yankee fop like that.”
 
“It isn’t the first time I’ve advised you to take lessons from the Yankees,” said Margaret; “and as to Mr. Gaston’s being conceited, I really think he’s less so than you are, Charley, though he knows much more. As to his being a Yankee—well, yes, he is a Yankee, as we should say,............