She spoke scornfully, and Yanna said: “I thought you rather admired Adolphus Van Praagh.”
“I did, until I met him at various tennis parties. Then I saw that he always wore dingy flannels. Is there anything more levelling in a man’s dress than dingy flannels? Now, Harry’s tennis suits are fresh, if he puts two suits on every day, to achieve the result. I think Harry is handsome in white flannels. Don’t you?”
“Very handsome. Were the Bleeker Van Praaghs there?”
“Of course they were. Van Praaghs always flock together, and have done so, generation after generation.”
“I think that is a fine family trait.”
“I think so, too—for the family. Personally, I could have wished more of the Milton and Kent and Bannerman element, and less of the Van Praaghs. But I did not remain long. Nelly Milton wore a fetching costume. She said it was a Redfern marvel. I noticed nothing else, but that every one had feather boas round their necks, and that in consequence the doorsteps were strewn with feathers. I hope Antony will come to the ball. Do you think he will dance with me?”
“No.”
“But with me? And in that dress!”
“I am sure he will not dance. He would rather lead a ‘forlorn hope’ or ride a hundred miles after hostile Indians, than go through a dance. It seems, even to me, so absurd to think of men mincing and capering about a room. I could sooner fancy Antony playing ‘How Far to Babylon?’ with the little children in the street.”