At the other end of the table an elementary form of joke was achieving a great success. It lay in crediting Peggy with unmeasured wealth, in assigning her quarters in the most fashionable part of the town, in marrying her to the highest bigwig whose title occurred to any one of the company. She was passed from Park Lane to Grosvenor Square and assigned every rank in the peerage. Schemes of benevolence were proposed to her, having for their object the endowment of literature and art.
'You will not continue the exercise of your profession, I presume?' asked Childwick, referring to Peggy's projected lessons in the art of painting and a promise to buy her works which she had wrung from a dealer notoriously devoted to her.
'She won't know us any more,' moaned Arty Kane.
'She'll glare at us from boxes—boxes paid for,' sighed Harnack.
'I shall never lose any more frocks,' said Elfreda with affected ruefulness.
Trix smiled at all this—a trifle sadly. What was attributed in burlesque to the newly enriched Peggy was really going to be almost true of herself. Well, she had never belonged to them; she had been a visitor always.
The most terrible suggestion came from Mrs. John—rather late, of course, and as if Mrs. John had taken some pains with it.
'She'll have her hair done quite differently.'
The idea produced pandemonium.
'What of my essay?' demanded Childwick.