Jasmine thought that it would probably annoy her aunt if she looked as if she did not mind staying at home; so she very cheerfully announced her complete indifference to the prospect of going to the dance, and her intention of reading Sir Hector to sleep. Dinner was eaten in the feverish way in which dinners before balls are always eaten. Before starting Pamela called Jasmine into her room to admire her frock, and Jasmine took a good deal of pleasure in telling her that she was not sure, but she thought she liked Lettice's frock better; and to Lettice, whom she presently visited, she said after a suitable pause that she was afraid Pamela's frock suited her better than her own did. Hargreaves and Hopkins, who were both indignant at Jasmine's being left behind, took the cue from her and they both praised so enthusiastically the other's dress to each sister, that the two girls went off to the dance feeling thoroughly ill-tempered.
"What would you like me to read you, Uncle Hector?" asked Jasmine when the house was silent.
"Well, really, I don't know," he said. "I don't think there's anything nowadays worth reading. I don't care about these modern writers. I don't understand them. But if they came to me as patients, I should know how to prescribe for them."
"Shall I read you some Dickens?" Jasmine suggested.
"It's hardly worth while beginning a long novel at this time of the evening."
"I might read you The Christmas Carol."
"Oh, I know that by heart," said Sir Hector.
"Well, what shall I read you? Shall I read you something from Thackeray's Book of Snobs?"
"No, I know that by heart, too," said Sir Hector.
"If you don't like modern writers, and you know all the other writers by heart...."