"I like Dr. Gribling, Isabella, because he's a thoroughly sensible man—a man you can say anything to."
Mrs. Wyburn thought that Miss Westbury would say anything to any one, and she shrewdly suspected that Millie was probably the one gleam of amusement in poor old Dr. Gribling's dreary round. However, she waved the eminent physician aside and said—
"About Valentia. She and Romer have gone down to the country, you know."
"Oh, indeed! Quite early to go. Very nice. Have they a large party there, do you know? The Green Gate is such a charming place—so picturesque."
"Have you ever seen it?" Mrs. Wyburn asked.
"Only in the Daily Mail—I mean accounts of week-ends there, and that sort of thing. But I believe it's quite charming. It seems almost a pity though, doesn't it, at the end of the season to begin the same frivolities and gaieties all over again. I wonder they don't take a little rest."
"I believe they are resting. Valentia wrote to me that no one was staying there at all, except, of course, Daphne."
"And Harry de Freyne?"
"Yes, and Mr. de Freyne."
"Strange," said Miss Westbury comfortably. "Curious that extraordinary infatuation of your—son for this young man. But he's a very charming man, isn't he? Most agreeable?"