It was
filled with young people, waving their hands and shouting, "Bertie!
Oh, Bertie!"
The other appeared to be startled. "Well, I'll be damned!" he muttered
as he went to meet them.
Of course Samuel had no business whatever to stand there. He should
have fled in trepidation. But he, as a privileged person, had not yet
been drilled into a realization of his "place." And they were such
marvelous creatures--these people of the upper world--and he was so
devoured with the desire to know about them.
There were two young men in the motor, of about his master's age, and
nearly as goodly to look at. And there were four young women, of a
quite extraordinary sort. They were beautiful, all of them--nearly as
beautiful as Miss Gladys; and perhaps it was only the automobile
costumes, but they struck one as even more alarmingly complex.
They were airy, ethereal creatures, with delicate peach blow
complexions, and very small hands and feet. They seemed to favor all
kinds of fluffy and flimsy things; they were explosions of all the
colors of the springtime. There were leaves and flowers and fruits and
birds in their hats; and there were elaborate filmy veils to hold the
hats on. They descended from the motor, and Samuel had glimpses of
ribbons and ruffles, of shapely ankles and daintily slippered feet.
They came in the midst of a breeze of merriment, with laughter and
bantering and little cries of all sorts.
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