garden, so perfectly in tone, and then drove through the “Arboretum” a lovely park with the trees all selected and named for educational purposes. Then we lunched at the Country Club, and had a famous divorcée and a famous co- respondent pointed out to us. Mr. Dwight and Mr. Swift called, and then Santayana, who stayed to dine. He was charming, but we found it hard not to talk to him, and even our hostess’ head, for she isn’t a scrap interested in thought, or even in conversation, unless she carries it on, when it generally turns upon some marvellous exploit of her own. But she has the right! For her exploits are marvellous, and her success in practical things of a high order justifies anything. Santayana told us something that remains in my mind as a horror. He went to visit Rockefeller’s son-in-law,