“Home!” echoed Mrs. Kame, “I thought Quicksands people never went home after a victory.”
“I've scarcely been here long enough,” replied Honora, “to have acquired all of the Quicksands habits.”
“Oh,” said Mrs. Kame, and looked at Honora again. “Wasn't that Mrs. Dallam you were with? I used to know her, years ago, but she doesn't speak to me any more.”
“Perhaps she thinks you've forgotten her,” said Honora.
“It would be impossible to forget Mrs. Dallam,” declared Mrs. Kame.
“So I should have thought,” said Honora.
Trixton Brent laughed, and Mrs. Kame, too, after a moment's hesitation. She laid her hand familiarly on Mr. Brent's arm.
“I haven't seen you all summer, Trixy,” she said. “I hear you've been here at Quicksands, stewing in that little packing-case of yours. Aren't you coming into our steeplechase at Banbury.
“I believe you went to school with my sister,” said young Mr. Wing.
“Oh, yes,” answered Honora, somewhat surprised. “I caught a glimpse of her once, in New York. I hope you will remember me to her.”