people--the Fleetwoods. It always surprises one to see them out of the
saddle. There is Evelyn Cardwell; she came out when I did; and there
comes Sandon Craig with a very old lady--there, in that old-fashioned
coach--oh, it is Mrs. Jan Van Elten, senior. What a very, very quaint
old lady! I have been presented at court," she added, with a little
laugh, "and now all the law has been fulfilled."

For a while she kneeled there, silently intent on the passing pageant
with all the unconscious curiosity of a child. Presently, without
turning: "They speak of the younger set--but what is its limit? So many,
so many people! The hunting crowd--the silly crowd--the wealthy
sets--the dreadful yellow set--then all those others made out of
metals--copper and coal and iron and--" She shrugged her youthful
shoulders, still intent on the passing show.

"Then there are the intellectuals--the artistic, the illuminated, the
musical sorts. I--I wish I knew more of them. They were my father's
friends--some of them." She looked over her shoulder to see where Selwyn
was, and whether he was listening; smiled at him, and turned, resting
one hand on the window seat. "So many kinds of people," she said, with a
shrug.

"Yes," said Selwyn lazily, "there are all kinds of kinds. You remember
that beautiful nature-poem:

"'The sea-gull
And the eagul
And the dipper-dapper-duck
And the Jew-fish
And the blue-fish