with it a crowd of the smartest young people that the 
Cowperwoods had ever welcomed beneath their roof. 
Their lives were broadening. Cowperwood could feel 
that. In answer to the one hundred and fifty carefully 
chosen invitations one hundred and twenty-five, or 
thereabouts, had answered. Some of the really smart 
people, girls and boys, men and women, would be present. 
Arthur Rivers was coming with Mrs. Simmons, a noted 
beauty. The daughter of Henry Waterman and the two 
sons of George were to be on hand, notably good-looking 
children all, and of some social prestige. Mrs. Seneca 
Davis, Mrs. Schuyler Evans, Mr. and Mrs. Simeon Jones, 
Mary and Ethel Clark, Roberta and Alice Cadwalader, 
Henry and Dorothea Willing, of a minor branch of that 
family, and so on. There was some curiosity as to the 
quality and charm of the two houses the Cowperwoods had 
erected, and some interest as to the basis of their social 
pretensions. Who were the Cowperwoods, anyhow? It 
was recalled that several branches of this family were in 
excellent standing, and had been since the Revolution, 
though they had no money. Would they do? Mrs. 
Seneca Davis was charming; Henry W. Cowperwood was 
sufficiently conservative—being a bank president—and 
useful, too. This young Frank—well, people said he 
was a genius. He was likely to become very, very rich. 
A little early friendship would not do any harm. Young 
Ellsworth, who went about a great deal socially in the 
best circles, sang his praises to the skies. A great young 
man, if ever there was one—tactful, discriminating, grave, 
subtle, able. The world would surely hear of him. And 
he was rich already—much richer than his father. 
So the rumor of this thing went, and it brought a throng. 
But to deal with the reception itself—the actual event. 
During the afternoon there was a stream of people—the 
carriages of the Butlers, the Mollenhauers, the Simpsons, 
the Davises, the Watermans—all after four o'clock, and 
Henry W. and Frank were in the reception-room of