"I say, Val. The Campbells are coming."
He wondered why this statement produced a burst of irresponsible laughter.
"What fun! Will there be bagpipes?" Vaughan asked.
"No, no. Romer means the Prebendary Campbell, or at least his wife and daughter. They're coming to see us this afternoon. I had quite forgotten. Please all behave nicely. They've been a long time making up their minds. I believe they think we're frivolous."
"Not really? How could they? It reminds one of the story of Henry James." Vaughan stopped to light a cigarette.
"Go on."
"It appears that for some time his near neighbours in the country looked a little coldly on him on the grounds that, being a writer, he must be Bohemian. At last the local doctor's wife and clergyman's wife called on him, and finding him perfectly respectable, stayed for many hours. They were particularly tedious and rather self-righteous. When they had gone, he said thoughtfully to some one who was pitying him for being bored, 'One of those poor wantons has a certain cadaverous grace.'"
The story was well received, except by Van Buren, who seemed painfully shocked.
Daphne, who had gone into the house to fetch some snapshots, now came running back saying—
"Val, Val! The Campbells are arriving in a fly, and they seem to have brought their foreigner with them—that man Miss Campbell told me about. He's a kind of Belgian, and awfully clever—he's invented something."