On they came, looking like the remnants of my summer’s feast—­the supper after my season’s dinner—­stale and repelling to my satiated palate.  On entering I saw the ghost of “the Soprano” at the head of the choir, with less voice and more affectation.  The same glances of envy that had been shot from angry eyes at The Resort I now saw passing between angry eyes here.  The church was full of imitations of this kind, or were they only inferior originals of the same type?

I learned afterward that the girls of the town were divided into two classes—­the followers of Miss Loude, who was fast and flashy, and the imitators of Miss Weighty, who affected the quiet style, did not visit indiscriminately, and was considered “stuck up” by the townspeople, being the daughter of a retired grocer.  During the service they all looked at me.  Some who were of the Loude school did it openly:  those after the Weighty pattern peeped clandestinely over their prayer-books, through their fans, or between their fingers when praying.  The more clever would use strategy, shivering as if in a draught of air, and looking around in my direction to see if a window were open, while the mammas eyed me steadily through spectacles.

“I might have known it,” I thought, exasperated:  “’tis the same everywhere, unless I should go to a country where the people are blind.”

Dick Hearty, who was there with his sisters, came up after the service and spoke to me.  “Looking well, old fellow!” he said, as if I was not sick of looking well.  “Let me introduce you to my sisters.”

His sisters were of the fast and flashy school.  Both of them fell in love with me before I left, though I tried hard to make myself disagreeable, not thinking it right to disappoint them, being a friend of the brother, and all that.  But unless I wear a mask I cannot prevent such accidents.  I hope they will get over it in time.  They were deuced nice girls too, but more like peonies than wild roses.

Well, as I was saying, Dick introduced me, and insisted on taking me home with him at once.  I already began to fear for the success of my object, but could not turn back at the very beginning of the promised land; so I went with him.

It would be tiresome to tell of all the flirtations and adventures I had while there, or of all the girls who devoted themselves to me.  Like skillful leaders, Miss Loude and Miss Weighty set the example to their imitators—­an example which none were slow to follow.  Indeed, it seemed as if the struggle consisted in seeing who should be first at my feet.  I averaged half a dozen conquests daily:  Dick’s house was overwhelmed with lady visitors, and it was usually love at first sight with them all.  A second interview was sufficient to win the most intractable.  Not that I cared to win:  I was fatigued with victory—­my laurels oppressed me.  I began to wish, like that nobby old emperor, Au—­I used to know his name—­that all womankind had but one heart, that I might finish it with a look, and then turn my attention to more important matters.