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"I thought so," said her husband, with another glance at me, as if it were the greatest fun in the world, and he started amiably off. I went and took a chair by the lady and the Altrurian, and she began at once: "Oh, I'm so glad you've come! I have been trying to enlighten Mr. Homos about some of the little social peculiarities among us that he finds so hard to understand.
Twelvemough, because you naturally want to keep Mr. Homos to yourself, and I don't blame you at all; but I'm simply not going to let you, and that's all there is about it." The pleasure I felt at this announcement was not unmixed, but I tried to keep Mrs. Makely from thinking so, and I was immensely relieved when she found a chance to say to me, in a low voice: "I know just how you're feeling, Mr.
Homos," she began, "if I ask you whether you intend to make America your home after this?" "Oh no!" I answered, and I tried to keep out of my voice the despair with which the notion filled me.
"And that is, there shall be no exclusion from my lecture on account of occupation or condition. That is a thing that I can in no wise countenance, even in America; it is far more abhorrent to me even than money-making, though they are each a part and parcel of the other." "I thought it was that," she retorted, joyously. "And I can assure you, Mr. Homos, there shall be nothing of that kind.
Twelvemough, the author you know his books, of course; and Mr. Homos, a gentleman from Altruria." The young fellow opened the gate he leaned on and came out to us. He took no notice of me, but he seized the Altrurian's hand and wrung it. "I've heard of you" he said. "Mrs. Makely, were you going to our place?" "Why, yes." "So do, then. Mother would give almost anything to see Mr. Homos.
Makely's warning eye upon me, I could not say so, and I made what sounded to me like a Gothic murmur of acquiescence. It sufficed for Mrs. Makely's purpose, at any rate, and she went on, without giving the Altrurian a chance to say what he thought the educational effect of wall-paper would be: "Well, the long and short of it is that we want you to make this money for us, Mr. Homos."
"Put in an elevator," he suggested. "Well, that is what Eveleth Strange has, and she lets the servants use it, too," and Mrs. Makely said, with a look at me: "I suppose that would please you, Mr. Homos. Well, there's a nice side-room over the front door here, and a bath-room at the rear. Then you have more stairs, and large chambers, and two side-rooms.
This fact alone must attract to our metropolis the best of our population, the bone and sinew which have no longer any use for themselves where they have been expended in rearing colossal fortunes, and now demand a metropolitan repose. The apartments are much better fitted for a family of generous size than those which Mr. Homos observed.
"And this is my husband, Aristides Homos, an Altrurian," I said, and then, as the lady had not asked us to sit down, or shown the least sign of liking our being there, the natural woman flamed up in me as she hadn't in all the time I have been away from New York. "I am glad you are so comfortable here, Mr. Thrall. You won't need us, I see. The people about will do anything in their power for you.
That's the whole story, and if Mr. Homos believes anything different, he's very much mistaken." "I hadn't formed any conclusion in regard to the matter, which is quite new to me," said the Altrurian, mildly. "But why is there no basis of mutual kindness between you?"
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