Then she suddenly made her appearance riding about in her stylish carriage, and looking as self-assured as of old.
"That was a strange story about Mrs.Dewey," said I to a lady whom I was visiting professionally.

I knew her to be of Mrs.Dewey's set.
Don't smile, reader; we had risen to the dignity of having a fashionable "set," in S----, and Mrs.Dewey was the leader.
The lady shrugged her shoulders, drew up her eyebrows, and looked knowing and mysterious.

I had expected this, for I knew my subject very well.
"You were at Saratoga," I added; "and must know whether rumor has exaggerated her conduct." "Well, Doctor," said the lady, dropping her voice, and putting on the air of one who spoke in confidence.

"I must say that our friend was not as discreet as she might have been.

Nothing wrong--that is, criminal--of course.