“Where? I don’t see him.”
“Look, through the shrubbery. He is talking to Arabella. How he does follow that girl about to be sure! He is spoony on her—poor man.”
“And does she like him?”
“Bah! who can tell? Perhaps she doesn’t know herself. She endures him, that is quite certain. But let us return into the house; they don’t want our company, I fancy. In cases of this sort It is my maxim ‘to let the young people alone;’” and here the widow indulged in another merry laugh.
They went into the house, where they were joined by a throng of persons. In less than half an hour after this dinner was served.
The Rev. Mr. Downbent said grace in an impressive manner, and all present proceeded to partake of the various dishes placed before them.
The conversation soon after this became lively and animated. A few stale jokes were uttered, which elicited as much laughter—perhaps more—than new ones. Healths were drunk, but, as it was a private affair, no speechmaking was attempted.
It was, in fact, a social party, and not a public banquet, and oratorical flourishes would therefore be out of place.
The meal occupied a considerable time—much more than was necessary; but this may be said of all such entertainments. A dessert of a most costly and elaborate description was laid in an adjoining apartment, and to this the greater portion of the guests repaired.
“Now, gentlemen,” said Lady Marvlynn, “I must beg of you to do just as you like. Those who wish to smoke are requested to do so, because I believe most of the ladies present will not offer any objection to the aroma of the fragrant weed. I like to see gentlemen smoke—it looks sociable; but I am not everybody, you will perhaps say. Well, that is true enough—so we will effect a compromise, if you please. A room is prepared for the reception of those ladies who object to smoke.”