out
at him when he used it. She said nothing, however, reflecting that the
reason she so detested it was probably because she was too "old" to
enjoy being called "old" in fun.

It was during Ascot week which they spent with the Arundels at their
place on the River that Loring surpassed himself in his game of "poking
up the highbrows." It was at luncheon. There were about twenty people
present--some very important Personages among them. Loring was feeling
especially "full of beans." A famous beauty had coaxed him into making
"American drinks" for the whole party before luncheon. She thought them
"ripping"! She was a very sporting beauty, and Loring was enjoying
himself, what with the races and one thing and another, more than he had
believed it possible to enjoy one's self in England away from the
'Shires in the hunting season. The American cocktails had a _succes de
curiosite_. Loring, himself, took two. At luncheon he was in high
feather. The beauty egged him on. He began to give thumb-nail sketches
of the characters of those present. Sophy's sensations were
indescribable. Not a "highbrow" did her husband spare. In pithy,
American slang he set forth, amid the laughter even of the victims
themselves, what he considered their chief characteristics. Nimbly
piling Ossa on Pelion, he capped the whole with Vesuvius, by pointing a
finger at a stern, iron-clad, reserved and venerable member of the
Opposition, and announcing: "You do the benevolent patriarch act to a T;
but deep down--gad!--you're _foxy_!"

The "benevolent patriarch" himself, after a gleam of surprise such as
might have stirred the countenance of Moses, had a gentile youth
suddenly made a _pied de nez_ at him, gazed inscrutably. The table
rocked with suppressed and somewhat scared laughter. Sophy felt bathed
in flame. She knew that Majesty itself would not have adopted a jesting
tone with the Being whom Loring had just called "foxy." That this
Superior Being in all probability _was_ "foxy" did not at all mend
matters.

She had stayed on for Ascot week because Loring had wished it. She now
determined to return to America as soon as possible. She had never
suffered in just this way before. She found it almost as excruciating as
the death of love had been. She marvelled at the endless variety of
pain.

That night Olive came to her bedroom for a private chat. She had slipped
on a dressing-gown and brought her cigarette-case with her, so Sophy
knew that she ha