_Would_ we?" And again she glowed upon Solon with the condescending
sweetness of a Sabbath-school teacher to the littlest boy in her class.
But now we both breathed more freely, for she allowed the wretched
_Argus_ to drop from her disapproving fingers, and began to ask us
questions, as to a place of worship, a house suitable for residence
purposes, a school for little Roscoe, and the nature of those clubs or
societies for mental improvement that might exist among us. And she
asked about Families. We were obliged to confess that there were no
Families in Little Arcady, in the true sense of the term, though we did
not divine its true sense until she favored us with the detail that her
second cousin had married a relative of the Adams family. We said
honestly that we were devoid of Families in that sense. None of us had
ever been able to marry an Adams. No Adams with a consenting mind--not
even a partial Adams--had ever come among us.
Still, Mrs. Potts wore her distinction gracefully, and was even a little
apologetic.
"In Boston, you know, we rather like to know 'who's who,' as the saying
is."
"Out here," said Solon, "we like to know what's what." He had revived
wonderfully after his beloved _Argus_ was dropped.
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