completely. Afterward they
grinned at each other, and one spoke behind his hand, his insolent
speculative eyes fixed on the retiring form of the girl. This was the
social reward of the ambitious mother.

It has always been clear to me why the women turn out in such cohorts
to any sort of a function. They wish to see the frocks, and they are
insistent that their own frocks shall be seen. Moreover they take
great enjoyment in hating such of their enemies as may come under
their notice. They never have a really good time; but of this fact
they are not aware, since women are so constituted that they are able
to misinterpret almost every one of their emotions.

The men, knowing something of their own minds at times, stealthily
avoid such things unless there are very special reasons. In my own
modest experience I have seen many a popular hostess hunting men with
a net. However it was plain why so many men came to Kensington Gardens
on a Sunday afternoon. It was the display of feminine beauty. And when
I say "display" I mean it. In my old age the fashion balloons a lady
with such a sweep of wires and trellises that no Irishman could marry
her because there is never a door in all Ireland through which his
wife could pass. In my youth, however, the fashion required all
dresses to be cut very low, and all skirts to cling so that if a
four-legged woman entered a drawing-room everybody would know it. It
would be so easy to count them. At present a woman could have eight
legs and nobody be the wiser.

It was small wonder that the men came to ogle at Kensington Gardens
on a fine Sunday afternoon. Upon my word, it was worth any young
gentleman's time. Nor did the beauties blush under the gaze of banks
of fastidious beaus who surveyed them like men about to bid at a
horse-fair. I thought of my father and how he would have enjoyed the
scene. I wager he would have been a gallant with the best of them,
bowing and scraping, and dodging ladies' skirts. He would have been in
his very element.

But as for me I had come to gain a possible glimpse of Lady Mary.
Beyond that I had no warm interest in Kensington Gardens. The crowd
was too high and fine; many of the people were altogether too well
bred. They frightened me.

However, I turned my head by chance to the left, and saw near me a
small plain man who did not frighten me at all. It was Doctor Chord,
the little scientist. He was alone and seemed to be occupied in
studying the crowd.