"From the top of the upright pine
The snowlumps fall with a thud,
Come from where the sunbeams shine
To lie in the heart of the mud—
"The heart of the mud, the heart of the mud—Oh, for oblivion! Nirvana—'The Dewdrop slips into the shining sea'—We're slipping into the courtyard of the castle. How many weary women, women waiting, happy women, despairing women, thoughtful women, thoughtless women, have those rows of winking windows eyed as they entered? Women are much more interesting than men—The lonely grave, the lonely grave—"
"Angelica!" Lady Fulda exclaimed as they drew up at the door, "I've left the carriage in Morningquest!"
"Yes, I know," said Angelica.
"My dear child, why didn't you remind me?"
Angelica shrugged her shoulders. "Let them alone and they'll come home," recurred to her, and then: "I must be more gracious. Aunt Fulda"—aloud—"who are here?"
"Your Uncle Dawne—"
"And Co., I suppose!" Angelica concluded derisively.
"Your Aunt Claudia and her friend are also here," Lady Fulda corrected her with dignity.
"Not exactly a successful attempt to be gracious," Angelica's thoughts ran on. "Ah, well! What does it matter? Live and let live, forget and forgive— forgetting is forgiving, and everyone forgets"—and then again piano—"The lonely grave, the lonely grave."