“So you remember that?” Philip had not command of himself enough not to attempt the sentimental.
“You must think I have a weak memory,” she replied, with a laugh. “And the story? When shall we have it?”
“Soon, I hope. And, Miss Mavick, I owe so much of it to you that I hope you will let me send you the very first copy from the press.”
“Will you? And do you Of course I shall be pleased and” (making him a little curtsy) “honored, as one ought to say in this company.”
Lord Montague was evidently getting uneasy, for his attention was distracted from the occupation of feeding.
“No, don't go Lord Montague, an old friend, Mr. Burnett.”
“Much pleased,” said his lordship, looking round rather inquiringly at the intruder. “I can't say much for the champagne—ah, not bad, you know—but I always said that your terrapin isn't half so nasty as it looks.” And his lordship laughed most good-humoredly, as if he were paying the American nation a deserved compliment.
“Yes,” said Philip, “we have to depend upon France for the champagne, but the terrapin is native.”
“Quite so, and devilish good! That ain't bad, 'depend upon France for the champagne!' There is nothing like your American humor, Miss Mavick.”
“It needs an Englishman to appreciate it,” replied Evelyn, with a twinkle in her eyes which was lost upon her guest.