Supposing from the
coachman's signs that she was expected to go in and view some
public garden, she paid him, walked far enough to be stopped by
the apologetic and appreciative guard, and returned to the
highway, to find no carriage in sight. Never mind, she reflected;
she needed the exercise. Accordingly, she set out to walk.
But the noonday sun of Caracuia has a bite to it. For a time, Miss
Brewster followed the car tracks which were her sure guide from
the palace to the Kast; briskly enough, at first. But, after three
cars had passed her, she began to think longingly of the fourth.
When it stopped at her signal, it was well filled. The most
promising ingress appeared to be across the blockade of a robust
and much-begilded young man, who was occupying the familiar
position of an "end-seat hog," and displaying the full glories of
the Hochwaldian dress uniform.
Herr von Plaanden was both sleepy and cross, for, having lingered
after the reception to have a word and several drinks with the
Minister of Foreign Affairs, he had come forth to find neither
coach nor automobile in attendance.
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