not even a flag out anywhere; the
celebration of the Fourth seemed to have shrunk into a dull and decorous
avoidance of all excitement. "Perhaps," suggested Miss Lamont, "if the
New-Englanders keep the Fourth of July like Sunday, they will by and by
keep Sunday like the Fourth of July. I hear it is the day for excursions
on this coast."

Mr. King was perfectly well aware that in going to a hotel in Newport
he was putting himself out of the pale of the best society; but he had
a fancy for viewing this society from the outside, having often enough
seen it from the inside. And perhaps he had other reasons for this
eccentric conduct. He had, at any rate, declined the invitation of his
cousin, Mrs. Bartlett Glow, to her cottage on the Point of Rocks. It was
not without regret that he did this, for his cousin was a very charming
woman, and devoted exclusively to the most exclusive social life. Her
husband had been something in the oil line in New York, and King had
watched with interest his evolution from the business man into the
full-blown existence of a man of fashion. The process is perfectly
charted. Success in business, membership in a good club, tandem in the
Park, introduction to a good house, marriage to a pretty girl of family
and not much money, a yacht, a four-in-hand, a Newport villa. His name
had undergone a like evolution. It used to be written on his business
card, Jacob B. Glow. It was entered at the club as J. Bartlett Glow. On
the wedding invitations it was Mr. Bartlett Glow, and the dashing pair
were always spoken of at Newport as the Bartlett-Glows.

When Mr. King descended from his room at the Ocean House, although it
was not yet eight o'clock, he was not surprised to see Mr. Benson tilted
back in one of the chairs on the long piazza, out of the way of the
scrubbers, with his air of patient waiting and observation. Irene used
to say that her father ought to write a book--"Life as Seen from Hotel
Piazzas." His only idea of recreation when away from business seemed to
be sitting about on them.

"The women-folks," he explained to Mr. King, who took a chair beside
him, "won't be down for an hour yet. I like, myself, to see the show
open."

"Are there many people here?"

"I guess the house is full enough. But I can't find out that anybody is
actually stopping here, except ourselves and a lot of schoolmarms come
to attend a convention. They seem to enjoy it. The rest, those I've
talked with, just happen