“He’s awfully busy with the horses,” the girl replied. “He has to stop at the Waldorf and see about the show with the men, and he makes me stay with Aunt Henrietta Cushing.” She stopped abruptly. She was afraid that what she had said might sound disloyal. “I like to stop with Aunt Henrietta,” she added solemnly. “Besides, I’ve been busy looking for Lady Washington.” The young man whom they called Reggie, together with Mr. Livingstone and the lady beside Angelica, laughed openly at this allusion to Miss Cushing. “Do you know her?” asked Angelica. “Oh, everybody knows your Aunt Henrietta,” said the lady. “And loves her,” added Livingstone, solemnly. The lady laughed a little. “You see, she’s connected with nearly everybody. She’s a sort of connection of Reggie’s and mine, so I suppose we’re sort of cousins of yours. I hope you will like us.” “I don’t know much about my relations on my mother’s side,” Angelica observed. The distinction between connections and relatives had never been impressed upon her. She was about to add that Jim said that his New York relatives tired him, but caught herself. She paused uneasily. “Please excuse me,” she said, “but I didn’t hear Mr. Livingstone introduce me to you.” “Why,” said Livingstone, who overheard, “this is Mrs. Everett. I told you we were coming into her box. “I thought she must have stepped out,” said Angelica. “You told me she was middle-aged.” A peal of laughter followed. “Angelica! Angelica!” Livingstone exclaimed. “But you did,” said Angelica. “I asked you if she was an old lady, and you said, ‘Not so terribly old—middle-aged.’ And she’s not; she’s young.” “Things can never be as they were before,” said Livingstone, mournfully, as the laughter died away. “No,” said Mrs. Everett. There was a pause, and one of the men turned to Reggie. “What are you going to do about the five-foot-six jumps?” “Let it go,” said Reggie. “It’s a pity,” said the other. “If you had met Miss Stanton earlier in the evening, I think she could have taught you to ride that mare. I wanted to see you win your bet.” “Bet?” said Livingstone. “Reggie’s such an idiot,” said Mrs. Everett. “He bet Tommy Post that Hermione would beat his chestnut in the five-foot-six jumps, and Reggie can’t make Hermione jump at all, so he’s lost.” “Not yet; I’ve got a chance,” said Reggie, good-naturedly. “Perhaps I’ll go in, after all.” The other men laughed. “I should think you had made monkey enough of yourself for one evening,” observed Palfrey, who was his best friend and could say such things. “Five feet six would be easy for Lady Washington,” said Angelica. “I can’t get used to calling her by that new name.” She hesitated a moment with embarrassment, and then she stammered: “Why don’t you let _me_ ride her?”