Patty looked demure. “I can’t help it,” she said. “I’m that entertaining, you know. But this new man is a corker!”
“My child, what langwich, what langwich!”
“’Tisn’t mine. That the way he was described to me. So, of course, I want to see if he is any good. And, you won’t believe it, but his name is Chick Channing!”
“What!”
“Yes, it is. Chickering Channing, for long, Chick for short.”
“What was his mother thinking of?”
“Dunno. Prob’ly he was named for a rich uncle, and she couldn’t help the combination.”
“Who is he?”
“One of Mona’s Western friends. Arrives today for a week or so. Mona’s Tea is in his honour, though she was going to have it anyway.”
“Well,” said Mr. Fairfield, judicially, “of course you must go to that Tea, and subjugate that young man. Then have him over here and I’ll size him up. If you want him, I’ll buy him for you.”