"Now tell me all about it. How and when you came, how long you shall stay, and all the rest of it," said Mrs. Manning, when all were served from the "curate" which was wheeled up to her.
"We came by way of Paris. We arrived yesterday and we shall stay as long as it seems hopeful that we may find my son here," Mrs. Beltrán replied.
"I suppose the son has some outlandish Spanish name, too. How you ever expect to find him, in an English-speaking country, with an unpronounceable name is more than I can tell. What did you tell me was his name, Katharine?"
"It is José, but we call him by the diminutive, which is Pepé."
"Of all ridiculous names," cried Aunt Manning. "Sounds like baby talk. Pay-pay. Baby 'ants to pay-pay. I shall never call him by anything so silly. What is it in English, plain English?"
"It is Joseph, Aunt Manning; Joe, I suppose we might say," Mrs. Beltrán answered with an amused smile.
"Joseph. Good, that is a good family name. We have Josephs in the family as far back as sixteen hundred. And where do you imagine this Joseph is?"
"We have learned that he came to England, and are going on that information," Mrs. Beltrán told her. "Mr. Kirkby is going to help us follow up the clue."
"Well, Ernest is used to following up clues. He can out-argue almost anybody in the county except me, and I will not be out-argued by anybody. I have a right to my opinions."
"So have I! So have I," spoke up Mr. Kirkby. "The trouble with Mrs. Manning is this," he said, turning to Mrs. Beltrán, "she calls everyone opinionated who will not change an opinion to suit hers, but she isn't a bit opinionated. Oh, no, not she."