"A daughter of the gods, divinely tall and most divinely fair, she sat on a throne of ducal luggage, looking queenly in an elegant white shirt waist, built mostly of holes and eminently suited to her style of beauty as well as the weather. She also had on a picture hat, which was superfluous as she would have been a picture without it, and below the waist she was tailor made." "I think it's most insulting!" I broke in. "And I was made at home, all the way down." But Sally went on: "I soon found [writes the representative of _The Flashlight_] that the sister of the Duke of Stanforth, one of Britain's eligibles, preferred to be addressed by her Front name of Lady Betty. 'I feel more at home,' said she, with a sweet voice, but a pronounced English accent, 'when I am called Lady Betty. And I want to feel at home in America, because I expect to be some time with my friend, Mrs. Stuyvesant-Knox, who will show me society over on this side. I have heard so much about Newport, don't you know? I fancy it will be too utterly deevy.'" "What's deevy?" I demanded with scorn. "Oh, that's supposed to be what smart Englishwomen say for divine." "_I_ never heard it," I sneered, "much less said it. I'm sure Mother would consider it quite profane." "Well, do be quiet, child, and listen to what _The Flashlight_ says you said." "'What opinion have you formed of our society women and clubmen, on board the Willie?' was the next question. "'I think your ladies are better dressed than ours, and the gentlemen are just lovely. They don't sit around and wait while we girls amuse them, they hustle to give us a good time, and they know how to do it. I shouldn't wonder if I should hate to go home and associate with lords after being a summer girl in Newport. I don't see now why American girls go out of their own country to marry.' "'I suppose we shall be seeing your brother, the Duke, over here before long?' "'His Grace may come to fetch me back,' replied her ladyship. 'He has never been to America, but it is one of the desires of his life to come, and your American beauties had better look out, for he is a gay young bachelor, and I shouldn't be surprised if he took a fancy to carry home a Duchess. Mrs. Stuyvesant-Knox will entertain him also, and maybe he will paint some of America red.'" "That's all about you, I see," Sally finished up. "The rest is about Cousin Katherine and me. It says we've come back with a touch of the Piccadilly accent; and it criticises my nose, and the way Cousin Katherine puts on her hat. It describes this house all wrong, and says the Newport cottage 'knocks spots' out of Mrs. Van der Windt's cottage. It also mentions Cousin Potter, and calls him 'one of our Army Dudes.' But _we_ don't mind, and you mustn't. Everybody reads _The Flashlight_, for the sake of the shocks, but nobody believes its flashes." "Still, you must have said something to the man," remarked Mrs. Ess Kay.