"They're a bunch of snobs," said Ogilvy, calmly.
"Oh!" said Hélène with a distressed glance at Annan.
"He's one, too," observed her affianced, coolly nodding toward Annan. "We're a sickening lot, Hélène—until some charming and genuine person like you comes along to jounce us out of our smiling and imbecile self-absorption."
"I," said Annan gravely, "am probably the most frightful snob that ever wandered, in a moment of temporary aberration, north of lower Fifth Avenue."
"I'm worse," observed Sam gloomily. "Help us, Hélène, toward loftier aspirations. Be our little uplift girl—"
"You silly things!" she said indignantly.
Later two riders passed the house, Cameron and Stephanie Swift, who saluted Hélène most cordially, and waved airy recognition to the two men.
"More snobs," commented Sam.
"They are very delightful people!" retorted Hélène hotly.
"Most snobs are when they like you."