"And Kathleen suggested Violet Manning," went on Mrs. Fabian. "Do you remember Mrs. Wright's niece? Her life must be a dull one.
"So it is to be a dinner party of derelicts," said Edgar; "a charity affair."
"Kathleen is always thoughtful," said Mrs. Fabian reproachfully. "As it is to be on Christmas Day I don't know that trying to give pleasure to some people who don't have much usually would be so far out of the way. I'm not sure about Miss Manning myself. Kathleen has suggested once or twice that, as we saw quite a little of her at the island, it might be well to show her some courtesy here; but, as I say, I'm not quite sure. What I am sure of is that I will not allow you to speak of Philip Sidney slightingly in my presence."
Edgar looked up in some surprise.
"A derelict, indeed," she went on. "I wish I might ever hope to see you bring the look into your father's eyes that they hold when he sees Phil."
"You choose a fine way to make me like him!" answered the youth; but beneath his carelessness was a twinge which proved that the words went home. "I remember Miss Manning now. She sailed with us a few times."
"Yes, and she lives here with some girl students in a bachelor-maid way, and teaches—"
"I remember the whole thing!" interrupted Edgar. "She dances."
"What! The stage?" asked Mrs. Fabian.
"No; some sort of school business; more on the gymnastic order. Of course, I remember her. She did a jig once on the boat."