"I've never been so cut up about anything. Still, of course, she was a mere girl, and—well, things pass!"
"Luckily things pass. I've no doubt she'll soon console herself."
"He'll be a very lucky fellow," said Harry handsomely. After all, he himself had admired Vivien, and his taste was good.
"He will. In fact I think I know only one man good enough for her—and that's Andy Hayes."
Harry's face was suddenly transformed to a peevish amazement.
"My dear girl, are you out of your mind? Don't say such silly things! Old Andy's a good chap, but the idea that Vivien would look at him! He's not her class; and she's the most fastidious little creature alive—as dainty and fastidious as can be!" He smiled again—probably at some reminiscence.
"I don't see why her being fastidious should prevent her liking Andy."
Harry broke into open impatience. "I like old Andy—well, I think I've done something to prove that—but, upon my soul, you all seem to have gone mad about him. You all ram him down a man's throat. It's possible to have too much of him, good fellow as he is. He and Vivien Wellgood! Well, it's simply damned ridiculous!" He took out his watch and, as he looked at it, exclaimed with great irritation, "Why the devil doesn't this woman come?"
"I thought Mrs. Belfield was always so punctual?"
"It's not Mrs. Belfield," Harry snapped out.