after the scent-bag, in driving tandems and
four-in-hands, and yet had time to dress in the cut and shade demanded by
every changing hour.

Formerly the annual chronicle of this summer pageant, in which the same
women appeared day after day, and the same things were done over and over
again, Margaret used to read with a contempt for the life; but that she
enjoyed it, now she was a part of it, shows that the chroniclers for the
press were unable to catch the spirit of it, the excitement of the
personal encounters that made it new every day. Looking at a ball is
quite another thing from dancing.

"Yes, it is lively enough," said Mr. Ponsonby, one afternoon when they
had returned from the polo grounds and were seated on the veranda. Mr.
Ponsonby was a middle-aged Englishman, whose diplomatic labors at various
courts had worn a bald spot on his crown. Carmen had not yet come, and
they were waiting for a cup of tea. "And they ride well; but I think I
rather prefer the Wild West Show."

"You Englishmen," Margaret retorted, "seem to like the uncivilized. Are
you all tired of civilization?"

"Of some kinds. When we get through with the London season, you know,
Mrs. Henderson, we like to rough it, as you call it, for some months.
But, 'pon my word, I can't see much difference between Washington and
Newport."

"We might get up a Wild West Show here, or a prize-fight, for you. Do you
know, Mr. Ponsonby, I think it will take full another century for women
to really civilize men."

"How so?"

"Get the cruelty and love of brutal sports out of them."

"Then you'd cease to like us. Nothing is so insipid, I fancy, to a woman
as a man made in her own image."

"Well, what have you against Newport?"

"Against it? I'm sure nothing could be better than this." And Mr.
Ponsonby allowed his adventurous eyes to rest for a moment upon
Margaret's trim figure, until he saw a flush in her face. "This
prospect," he added, turning to the sea, where a few sails took the slant
rays of the sun.

"'Where every prospect pleases,"' quoted Margaret, "'and only man--'"

"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Henderson; men are not to be considered. The
women in Newport would make the place a paradise even if it were a
desert."

"That is another thing I object to in men."

"What's that?"

"Flattery. You don't say such things to each other at the club. What is
your objection to Newport?"

"I didn't say I had any. But if you compel me well, the whole th