"Who are to be there?" she asked, as soon as she could trust her voice to be properly inexpressive.
"Austin, and Tom Forbes, and Lloyd Avalons, and two or three men you don't know, and Thayer."
"Mr. Thayer?" Her accent was incredulous.
"Certainly. Why not?"
"I didn't know that he ever had anything to do with Mr. Dudley, and I really can't imagine his caring to make a table companion of Lloyd Avalons."
Lorimer's answering laugh was slightly bitter.
"What a social Philistine you are, Beatrix! Thayer is not so narrow."
"Does that mean I am narrow?" she asked resentfully.
"Yes, for a woman who frowned disapproval upon Sally Van Osdel's late utterances."
"Sally was talking of Mrs. Lloyd Avalons. Mrs. Lloyd Avalons is not bad, only foolish: Mr. Lloyd Avalons is both." She drew a long breath, as she paused with her teeth shut upon her lower lip. Suddenly her chin began to quiver, and two heavy tears slid down her cheeks. Then she rallied swiftly, for she knew that all men hate domestic tears. "Sidney," she said slowly and with an evident effort towards steadiness; "let's not discuss this any more. I will go to mother's, and you may come for me there, after your dinner is over. I wish you could go with me; but never mind. Only, Sidney,—next time, please tell me a little sooner when you make a dinner engagement, and then I shall know just how to fit my plans into yours. And—?" She raised her eyes to meet his squarely.