"Hu, you remind me of Mrs. Benson. The day after I came, she asked me whether Miss Greenway didn't write books; she thought all people who wrote books were generally a little untidy."
"Did you enlighten her?"
"I couldn't, for I had just ripped my jacket sleeve open for more than two inches. 'Twas made with one of those insidious one-thread machines, and I tried to pull out a loose stitch. Since then, she has avoided the subject of Miss Greenway, and I have spent a good share of my energy in mending the more visible portions of my attire. I didn't know before that the eyes of the world were upon us, as upon a peculiar people."
But Cicely had returned to the charge.
"Cousin Hubert, how long is he going to be here?"
"I'm sure I don't know."
"Who is he here to see?"
"Nobody, apparently, unless his own fair face," Billy answered irreverently.
"Cousin Ted, did you say you knew him?"
"I'm not sure; but it seems to me I met him once."