"How well he knows the condiments," remarked their host in sly tones, and rubbing his hands softly; "but talking of condiments, reminds one of dinner, and that Everly should be here."
"I hear a footstep on the hill which doesn't grow fainter, fainter still," said Mrs. Wingfield.
"Here we are again," said Sir Tilton Everly, entering, and shaking hands with all, continued: "I hope, Bertram, I havn't kept your dinner waiting."
"No, no, my dear fellow, my dinner waits for no man."
"You see our gallant host makes an exception in our favour, Sir
Tilton," said Lady Esmondet.
"He considers the length of our toilette," said Mrs. Wingfield.
"And train," laughed Vaura, as Trevalyon caught his foot in her trailing skirts, in crossing behind to offer his arm.
"Go where one will," said Trevalyon, covered by the hum of voices; "one is sure to fall in with Everly."
"Yes, uncle Eric says he reminds him of the clown at a circus, with his cherry cry of 'here I am again.'"
"He seemed to me to be a sort of pet monkey of Mrs. Haughton; I hope he will not deem it necessary to transfer his little attentions to you, or I shall feel inclined to tell him that I am your knight pour le present, and show him my colours, in shape of telegram from your uncle (if I may not wear yours)," he added in persuasive tones.