Then he hurried away before she had time to make further sport of him.

To Count Selim Malagaski this garden-party was the frantic effort of a
sinking man. To Kalora it was a lark. From the pure fun of the thing,
she obeyed her father. She wore four heavily quilted and padded gowns,
one over another, and when she and Jeneka were summoned from their
apartments and went out to meet the company under the trees, they were
almost like twins and both duck-like in general outlines.

First they met Mrs. Rawley Plumston, a very tall, bony and dignified
woman in gray, wearing a most flowery hat. To every man of Morovenia
Mrs. Plumston was the apotheosis of all that was undesirable in her sex,
but they were exceedingly polite to her, for the reason that Morovenia
owed a great deal of money in London and it was a set policy to
cultivate the friendship of the British.

While Jeneka and Kalora were being presented to the consul's wife,
these same young men, the very flower of bachelorhood, stood back at a
respectful distance and regarded the young women with half-concealed
curiosity. To be permitted to inspect young women of the upper classes
was a most unusual privilege, and they knew why the privilege had been
extended to them. It was all very amusing, but they were too well bred
to betray their real emotions. When they moved up to be presented to the
sisters they seemed grave in their salutations and restrained
themselves, even though one pair of eyes, peering out above a very gauzy
veil, seemed to twinkle with mischief and to corroborate their most
pronounced suspicions.

Out of courtesy to his guests, Count Malagaski had made his garden-party
as deadly dull as possible. Little groups of bored people drifted about