The equipage made a wide turn; the ladies and gentlemen upon the Jaquelin
porch fluttered fans and handkerchiefs; the Colonel, leaning from the
coach window, waved his hand; and the horseman lifted his hat the second
time. The very especial guests were gone; and though the remainder of the
afternoon was as merry as heart could wish, yet a bouquet, a flavor, a
tang of the Court and the great world, a breath of air that was not
colonial, had gone with them. For a moment the women stood in a brown
study, revolving in their minds Mistress Evelyn's gypsy hat and the
exceeding thinness and fineness of her tucker; while to each of the
younger men came, linked to the memory of a charming face, a vision of
many-acred Westover.
But the trumpet blew, summoning them to the sport of the afternoon, and
work stopped upon castles in Spain. When a horse-race was on, a meadow in
Virginia sufficed.