“woman in bicycle costume is an acquired taste,” ned strong had once remarked to a friend. that was before mrs. brevoort had taken to wheeling. she had converted him to a belief in the artistic possibilities of a bifurcated dress for women. he had come to the final conclusion that the desirability of a bicycle costume, so far as the gentler sex is concerned, must remain wholly a local issue. experience was teaching him that generalizations regarding the progressive woman of to-day are worthless. furthermore, he had learned that whether or not he admired their ways and costumes made little difference to the women of his set. the iconoclastic tendency of recent years finds no more striking illustration than in the fact that women no longer sacrifice their comfort to their dress for the sake of man’s approval, but dare to be unconventional for the sake of their own comfort.

and ned strong was obliged to acknowledge to himself that mrs. brevoort, dark, piquante, vivacious, presented an extremely attractive picture on this september afternoon as she sat gazing at the blue waters of the sound, equipped for a long ride on her wheel.

that kate strong was a much more striking and impressive figure than mrs. brevoort[72] was a fact that had not appealed to the young man’s mind. perhaps he had not observed his sister critically. or it may be that he had so long taken it for granted that kate always made a good appearance that he was not inclined to waste time on the question as to the adaptability of a bicycle costume to his sister’s use. at all events, the youth found pleasure in confining his attentions to mrs. brevoort, and failed to notice that his sister’s face wore an expression of melancholy and that there was a listlessness in her manner that the warmth of the day could not wholly explain.

“and you have heard nothing more about him?” asked mrs. brevoort, gazing interestedly at ned strong. “it seems very strange that he has never written you a line.”

“doesn’t it?” cried the young man. “and he was such a thoroughbred in his manner and appearance! wasn’t he, kate?”

“he was very attractive,” answered his sister, somewhat reluctantly, it seemed. “i feel sure that some day we shall find an explanation to the mystery.”

“oh, i don’t know,” exclaimed mrs. brevoort, airily. “you see, i don’t take a bit of stock in these foreigners. i have seen so much of them! it may be bad form on my part, but i prefer an american gentleman to the most fascinating european that ever claimed descent from charlemagne or william the conqueror.” she cast a mischievous, challenging glance at ned strong, and went on: “there’s something about monarchical countries that begets ideal lovers but impossible husbands. the greatest complaint over absentee landlords on the other[73] side comes from american girls who have married titled foreigners.”

ned strong laughed. “on behalf of my fellow-countrymen i thank you, mrs. brevoort. it is too bad that your convictions have not a greater following here among us.”

“so much the worse for those who do not agree with me. how much can an american girl know about a titled foreigner who comes over here looking for a rich wife? take the case you have just been telling me about,” continued mrs. brevoort, vivaciously. “this fascinating youth called himself ‘count szalaki.’ how easy it was for you to discover that there was no such title in rexania! ’twas surprisingly clumsy on his part.”

“that’s one reason that leads me to think,” remarked ned, “that there is something more in the affair than a mere adventurer’s escapade. if he had been a fraud he would have been more careful in his choice of a name. if he was, as i have sometimes suspected, a man very high in rank, who wished to disguise his identity, he would have chosen a title that did not exist, taking it for granted that we would respect his wish to remain unknown. there are royal personages on the other side who travel under names that one cannot find in burke’s peerage or the almanach de gotha.”

“that’s merely a matter of form,” exclaimed mrs. brevoort, glancing at kate. “everybody knows who they are, wherever they go. i was introduced to a king in paris who had chosen to trot around under the name of mr. smith, but it was a very thin disguise. he was such a wretched conversationalist[74] that i knew at once that he concealed a throne behind his stupidity. a real mr. smith could have talked about something besides the weather.”

kate smiled at the sarcastic little woman’s words.

“what a thorough democrat you are, mrs. brevoort!” she remarked. “i almost suspect that you intend to go in for politics.”

“why not?” cried mrs. brevoort enthusiastically. “if we don’t take part in public affairs, other women will. i believe it is our duty to raise the tone of politics by taking an interest in them. if the men of our class won’t do their duty by the state, it is for us to take their place.” she looked at ned strong defiantly.

“i suspect,” he remarked, cautiously, “that you do not approve of my indifference to public affairs, mrs. brevoort.”

“most assuredly i do not,” she exclaimed emphatically. “a youth who claims a divine right to occupy a european throne and defends that assumed right with cannon and gunpowder is, to my mind, in a false position, but he is more consistent than a young american who possesses the prerogative of the ballot and won’t take the trouble to go to the polls to vote.”

ned strong laughed merrily. “what a long memory you have, mrs. brevoort! it is nearly a year since you learned that i failed to register last fall, and now you bring a sweeping accusation against me. i fear you do not find me possessed of the saving grace of patriotism.”

“patriotism!” cried the youth’s accuser. “surely, if you have it, it finds queer ways[75] of expression, mr. strong. you fail to vote, and yet you are forever denouncing this country for going to the dogs. i really believe that i have heard you crack a joke at the expense of george washington.”

a smile of amusement crossed kate strong’s face. “he deserves what you are giving him, mrs. brevoort. ned is a thorough believer in his divine right to let other people save the country.”

“this is unfair,” cried the young man, with assumed annoyance. “i am outnumbered two to one. you have me at a disadvantage. but i will not attempt now, mrs. brevoort, to defend my position. and, luckily for me, here comes my chance for escape. you cannot talk politics on the wheel, you two. are you ready to mount? it is just three o’clock, and we are in good time for a long spin.”

a boy in livery had brought their wheels to the front of the club-house, and, mounting quickly, the trio sped down the pathway toward the entrance that opened on to the grounds from the main highway. mrs. brevoort and ned strong led the way, and kate followed them, a flush of physical enjoyment mounting to her cheeks as she chased the south wind inland.