“Then why do you grudge me a well-earned holiday?” he asked imperturbably.
“I believe you are studying us for your next sketch; taking us in your literary kodak.”
“No, indeed! I am not a reporter for a society paper.”
“Oh, I don’t mean about our dresses and hats, or that; I mean character sketches.”
“How I should like to sit to you for mine!” said Mrs. Veryphast, vivaciously, moving her chair an inch or two nearer to his. “I do wish you would make a study of me, and put me in one of your charming stories or dialogues.”
“It would have a fabulous circulation if you were the heroine,” said Lord Montycute, with a bow.
Mrs. Veryphast smiled, well pleased. She was not always able to distinguish between impertinence and flattery. Mrs. Veryphast was evidently anxious to annex another ladies’ friend, who had edged himself so far away that he was quite an outsider. But he would not be appropriated, neither could he effect his escape.
“Mr. Wynne,” said Lady Rachel, briskly, “you are up in all the principal subjects of the day. Do tell us what you think of the new woman.”
“That she will be an old woman in a few years.”
“So shall I. You are meanly evading the question.”