ifferent events.

Edith always has liked horses, and when she married Alec she rebuilt our
run-down stable along with the house, and filled the empty old box
stalls with two or three valuable thorough-breds. Edith's Arrow, Pierre,
and Blue-grass had won some sort of a ribbon for the last half-dozen
years. I usually rode Blue-grass for Edith in the jumping event. I was
to do so on the afternoon that Breck's letter arrived.

It was a perfect day. The grand-stand with its temporary boxes that
always sell at absurdly high prices was filled with the summer society,
dressed in its gayest and best. The brass band was striking up gala airs
now and again, and the big bell in the tower clanged at intervals.
Between events horses were being led to and fro, and in front of the
grand-stand important individuals wearing white badges leaned over the
sides of the lowest tier of boxes, chatting familiarly with the ladies
above. A lot of outsiders, anybody who could pay a dollar admission,
wandered at large, staring openly at the boxes, leveling opera-glasses,
and telling each other who the celebrities were.

Alec was West on a business trip, but Edith had a box, of course, as she
always does. All around us were gathered in their various stalls our
friends and acquaintances. It is the custom to visit back and forth from
box to box, and the owner of each box is as much a host in his own
reservation as in his own reception-room at home. Our box is usually
very popular, but this year there was a marked difference. Of course
some of our best friends did stop for a minute or two, but those who sat
down and stayed long enough to be observed were only men. I was
surprised and unpleasantly disturbed.

Mrs. Sewall's box was not far away. We could see her seated prominently
in a corner of it, surrounded by a very smart bevy--strangers mostly,
New Yorkers I supposed--with Miss Gale Oliphant, strikingly costumed in
scarlet, in their midst. A vigilant group of summer colonists hovered
near-by, now and again becoming one of the party. Edith and I sat quite
alone in our box for an hour fully; I in my severe black habit, with my
elbow on the railing, my chin in my hand, steadily gazing at the track;
Edith erect, sharp-eyed, and nervously looking about in search of some
one desirable to bow to and invite to join us.

Finally she leaned forward and said to me, "Isn't this simply terrible?
I can't stand it. Come, let's get out."

"Where to?" I asked.