he spoke
of the rain, or the smoke, or the party generally.

Damp gauzes, splashed stockings, trampled muslins, and features which
have perhaps known something of rouge and certainly encountered
something of rain may be made, but can only, by supreme high
breeding, be made compatible with good-humour. To be moist, muddy,
rumpled and smeared, when by the very nature of your position it is
your duty to be clear-starched up to the pellucidity of crystal, to
be spotless as the lily, to be crisp as the ivy-leaf, and as clear
in complexion as a rose,--is it not, O gentle readers, felt to be a
disgrace? It came to pass, therefore, that many were now very cross.
Carriages were ordered under the idea that some improvement might be
made at the inn which was nearly a mile distant. Very few, however,
had their own carriages, and there was jockeying for the vehicles. In
the midst of all this Silverbridge remained as near to Miss Boncassen
as circumstances would admit. "You are not waiting for me," she said.

"Yes, I am. We might as well go up to town together."

"Leave me with father and mother. Like the captain of a ship, I must
be the last to leave the wreck."

"But I'll be the gallant sailor of the day who always at the risk of
his life sticks to the skipper to the last moment."

"Not at all;--just because there will be no gallantry. But come and
see us to-morrow and find out whether we have got through it alive."

CHAPTER XXXIII

The Langham Hotel

"What an abominable climate," Mrs. Boncassen had said when they were
quite alone at Maidenhead.

"My dear, you didn't think you were to bring New York along with you
when you came here," replied her husband.

"I wish I was going back to-morrow."

"That's a foolish thing to say. People here are very kind, and you
are seeing a great deal more of the world than you would ever see at
home. I am having a very good time. What do you say, Bell?"

"I wish I could have kept my stockings clean."

"But what about the young men?"

"Young men are pretty much the same everywhere, I guess. They never
have their wits about them. They never mean what they say, because
they don't understand the use of words. They are generally half
impudent and half timid. When in love they do not at all understand
what has befallen them. What they want they try to compass as a cow
does when it stands stretching out its head towards a stack of hay
which it cannot reach. Indeed there is no such