“Then, as it does not matter to you, and does to me, give me my foolish way, like a dear good fellow.”
“Now, that is smart,” said Vizard—“very smart;” then, with a look of parental admiration, “he gets his own way in everything. He will have your money—he won't have your money. I wonder whether he will consent to walk those girls out, and disburden me of their too profitable discourse.”
“That I will, with pleasure.”
“Well, they are at luncheon—with their bonnets on.”
“I will join them in five minutes.”
After luncheon, Miss Vizard, Miss Dover, and Mr. Severne started for a stroll.
Miss Maitland suggested that Vizard should accompany them.
“Couldn't think of deserting you,” said he dryly.
The young ladies giggled, because these two rarely opened their mouths to agree, one being a professed woman-hater, and the other a man-hater, in words.
Says Misander, in a sourish way, “Since you value my conversation so, perhaps you will be good enough not to smoke for the next ten minutes.”