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           Sherushedinbareheaded,carryinghiminherarms,withhiskneeallbeautifullybandaged,andwassosympatheticandbeautifulthatmywifewastoodazzledtoaskhername."ApleasantglowdilatedArcher’sheart.Therewasnothingextraordinaryinthetale:anywomanwouldhavedoneasmuchforaneighbour’schild.ButitwasjustlikeEllen,hefelt,tohaverushedinbareheaded,carryingtheboyinherarms,andtohavedazzledpoorMrs.Winsettintoforgettingtoaskwhoshewas."ThatistheCountessOlenska—agranddaughterofoldMrs.Mingott’s.""Whew—aCountess!"whistledNedWinsett."Well,Ididn’tknowCountessesweresoneighbourly.Mingottsain’t.""Theywouldbe,ifyou’dletthem.""Ah,well—"Itwastheiroldinterminableargumentastotheobstinateunwillingnessofthe"cleverpeople"tofrequentthefashionable,andbothmenknewthattherewasnouseinprolongingit."Iwonder,"Winsettbrokeoff,"howaCountesshappenstoliveinourslum?""Becauseshedoesn’tcareahangaboutwhereshelives—oraboutanyofourlittlesocialsign-posts,"saidArcher,withasecretprideinhisownpictureofher."H’m—beeninbiggerplaces,Isuppose,"theothercommented."Well,here’smycorner."HeslouchedoffacrossBroadway,andArcherstoodlookingafterhimandmusingonhislastwords.NedWinsetthadthoseflashesofpenetration;theywerethemostinterestingthingabouthim,andalwaysmadeArcherwonderwhytheyhadallowedhimtoacceptfailuresostolidlyatanagewhenmostmenarestillstruggling.