im that Englishwomen might
bring home all the pretty clothes they liked from other countries, and
that I considered it most ungallant in such a chivalrous nation as
America to deny ladies a few Paris dresses.

"Do you happen to know, miss, what's the income-tax in your country?"
he asked, tenderly putting back some yellow hairpins which had fallen
out of a box of mine.

"Dear me, no," I exclaimed. "But I think it's sometimes more than a
shilling in the pound; I've heard my brother say so; and as for the
death duties, it's more than your life's worth to die."

"A-ah!" said the nice man. "We haven't got any income-tax on this side,
and folks can die in peace, whenever they please. I guess that kind of
evens things up, don't it?"

I didn't know what to answer, so I thanked him for his kindness, and we
parted the best of friends.

Mrs. Ess Kay appeared so quickly afterwards, that it almost seemed as
if she must have been lying in wait. She was looking pale and
shattered, and Louise, following close behind, was positively haggard.
Only Sally had weathered the storm without being outwardly the worse
for wear; but even she didn't look as good-natured as usual.

"How have you got along, you poor, deserted darling?" affectionately
enquired Mrs. Ess Kay, undismayed by a fixed gaze from Sally, which
apparently signified reproach.

"It wasn't very bad, and I've quite enjoyed myself," I replied,
forgetting some tedious moments in the light of others not tedious, and
hoping that the roses in my belt might pass unnoticed.

Fortunately they did, otherwise I should have been in a difficulty; for
I should have hated to vulgarise the little episode by putting it into
story form for Mrs. Ess Kay; and presumably roses have not been taught
to grow wild on the New York docks, although they say Americans are so
very luxurious in their tastes one would hardly be surprised at
anything.

A beautiful electric carriage, bigger than a brougham, was waiting for
us, and we left Louise, with a butler or some other man servant out of
livery, to wrestle with the luggage, and bring it in cabs (which they
called "hacks"), up to Mrs. Ess Kay's house in New York, where I knew
she meant to stop for a few days before going on to Newport.

The minute we drove away from the Docks I began to notice dozens of
things which made me tremendously conscious that I was in a foreign
country. One would think, as so many of these people were English, or
anyway