"Thanks, ma'am!"
Giles' tone was sufficient, and Mrs. Trevelyan sank into acquiescence.
Jean would gladly have escaped the ordeal, had freedom of choice been permitted; but Mrs. Trevelyan was so placidly sure of her delight in the treat, that nobody could have the heart to undeceive her. Jean disliked strangers, and was not captivated by Mrs. Wiggins. Still, the thing had to be endured; and she was prepared to endure heroically.
The Wigginses were so excruciatingly correct that they introduced nobody to anybody. This was the rule of the house. Indiscriminate introductions are not "the thing;" but neither is it to be accounted "the thing" to plant an absolute stranger amid a group of people, all mutually acquainted, who will leave her socially out in the cold.
Those who meet under the roof of a common friend ought, no doubt, to be able to exchange ideas without being formally named one to another; and the absence of introductions presupposes this possibility. English people are not yet cured of shyness, however; and even while tabooing introduction, they too often wait rigidly for it.
Jean found this to her cost. She was welcomed cordially, separated from Mrs. Trevelyan, placed among a group of strangers, and there left to her own devices. She had seen a good many Wufflestone people in the last few weeks, but not a single acquaintance happened to be "within hailing distance." Around were grouped ladies, old and young, all ladylike in appearance, and all seemingly well acquainted. They chatted freely together, and most of them used their eyes upon Jean, but none spoke to her.
For nearly an hour she sat thus, wondering how long the condition of things was to last. Tea brought round formed her one diversion. She could not see Mrs. Trevelyan. Mrs. Wiggins once flitted up for a remark, and flitted away again, taking no further trouble.
Internally, Jean grow indignant. It seemed unfair and uncourteous that she should be pressed to come to the house, and that not an effort should be made for her entertainment. She thought with longing of the cosy cottage drawing-room, and of Giles' amusing conversation. Then she wandered to recollections of home and of Evelyn—the gentle and gracious Evelyn, who would never so neglect her guests.
"Not even if she disliked them," thought Jean.
A few yards distant was a closed conservatory door. Jean growing tired of her position, rose at length and made her way thither. The movement drew general attention, for which Jean cared little. She glanced across the room, caught a glimpse of Mrs. Trevelyan on a distant sofa, exchanged a smile with her, then wandered off alone into the deserted conservatory. To close the glass door was her first care, with a sense of satisfaction in shutting off those unsociable people. Then she stole happily from plant to plant, studying the fair make of one, inhaling the sweetness of another, entirely content.