"I have seldom seen anything more complete than that turn-out," said Mr. Barker. "The impression of mourning is perfect; it could not have been better if it had been planned by a New York undertaker."
"Are New York undertakers such great artists?" asked Claudius.
"Yes; people get buried more profusely there. But don't you think it is remarkably fine?"
"Yes. I suppose you are trying to make me say that the Countess is a beautiful woman," answered Claudius, who was beginning to understand Barker. "If that is what you want, I yield at once. I think she is the most beautiful woman I ever saw."
"Ah!—don't you think perhaps that Miss Skeat acts as an admirable foil?"
"Such beauty as that requires no foil. The whole world is a foil to her."
"Wait till you come to America. I will show you her match in Newport."
"I doubt it. What is Newport?"
"Newport is the principal watering-place of our magnificent country. It is Baden, Homburg, Bigorre, and Biarritz rolled into one. It is a terrestrial paradise, a land of four-in-hands and houris and surf-bathing and nectar and ambrosia. I could not begin to give you an idea of it; wait till you get there."
"A society place, I suppose, then?" said Claudius, not in the least moved by the enthusiastic description.