the women on the other. At my garden-parties this separation takes
place naturally without the intervention of any authority. The men
gather in a group under a certain chestnut-tree and talk to each other
gloomily in low tones. The women--there are always more women than
men--seat themselves in three distinct rows round the sides of the
tennis-court. The short row across the top of the tennis-court is
reserved by an unwritten, but apparently very strict law for the
ladies of the highest social position. The Dean's wife, for instance,
sits in that row. The seats at the other end of the court are occupied
by people like the Pringles, those who are just eligible for
invitations to my parties, but have, so to speak, no social position
to spare. They always remind me of St. Paul's "righteous" who
"scarcely are saved." The long side of the tennis-court opposite the
chestnut-tree, which forms a kind of male seraglio, is given over to
those of middling station, ladies who are, perhaps, in a position to
shake hands with Lady Moyne, and who do not, perhaps, call on Mrs.
Pringle.

To this strictly observed etiquette there are two exceptions. My
nephew Godfrey does not stand under the chestnut-tree, but keeps close
to the side of Lady Moyne. The other men make it quite clear that
they do not want him. No man whom I have ever met can tolerate
Godfrey's company. He follows Lady Moyne about because he believes her
to be a lady of political influence, and he hopes she will get him a
well-paid post under the government. He is one exception. The other is
Lady Moyne herself. She declines to sit in a row. She walks about,
sometimes walks away from the rest of the party.

My daughter Marion's duty on these occasions is to drag young men from
the shelter of the chestnut-tree and make them play tennis with young
women called from one or other of the rows in which their mothers have
planted them. Marion finds this a difficult duty, requiring her utmost
tact. My own duty, which I fulfil in the most conscientious manner, is
to make as many complete journeys round the tennis-court as possible,
saying something to every lady in all three rows, and giving a kind of
general address of a friendly and encouraging kind to the men under
the chestnut-tree.

On this particular afternoon two unusual incidents broke the monotony
of my party. Lady Moyne refused to be satisfied with the company of
Godfrey. She sat down beside the Dean's wife and made herse