The character of the membership of the club was indicated to-night by
the brilliancy of the company present. It was one of those occasions
when everybody is there, and the scene, as the new-comers looked over
the gallery, was most bright and animated. Although the ladies had
evidently labored under the usual uncertainty in regard to the proper
dress which seems inseparable from an art exhibition in Boston, and
were in all varieties of costume from street attire to full evening
toilette, there were enough handsome gowns to supply the necessary
color. There was also abundance of pretty and of striking faces, and
the crowd had that pleasant look of familiarity which one gets from
recognizing acquaintances all through it.
One of the first persons the Fentons saw was Ethel Mott, who, under the
chaperonage of Mrs. Frostwinch, was making the tour of the gallery with
Kent, and paying far more attention to her companion than to the
pictures.
"Oh, Arthur," Edith whispered, "I saw Mrs. Staggchase in the dressing-
room, and she told me that Ethel's engagement is out to-day."
Arthur smiled, remembering his perspicacity when Ethel had driven away
from his dinner with Kent in her carriage.
"Isn't the crowd dreadful?" the voice of Mrs. Bodewin Ranger said, at
Edith's elbow. "I'm really getting too old to trust myself in such a
crush.
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