"Nobody you'd care about," Jenny assured him; she had given Chat a look which immediately produced symptoms of flutters.
"Who's coming?"
"Oh, only Lord Fillingford and Lady Sarah, the Wares, the Rector, the Aspenicks, and one or two more."
"H'm. My roses are good enough for that lot, but I'm not, eh?"
Jenny's hand was forced; Chat had undermined her position. Not even for the sake of policy did she love to do an unhandsome thing—still less to be found out in doing one. To use the roses and slight the donor would not be handsome. She knew Aspenick's objection to meeting Octon, but probably she thought that she could keep Aspenick in order.
"I had no idea you'd care about it. I thought you liked coming quietly better. I like it so much better when I can have you to myself."
No use now! His prickles were out; he would not be cajoled.
"So I may as a rule—but it's rather marked when you never ask me to meet anyone."
"I shall be delighted to see you at dinner to-morrow," said Jenny. "Will you come?"
"Yes, I will come—I hope I know how to behave myself, don't I?"