"Here, have a glass of champagne, and don't think about your shortcomings," she said.
"That's very nice," he replied, just tasting it.
"Nonsense!" she cried. "No heel-taps. I'm no end thirsty."
"So am I," replied his Lordship, draining his glass contentedly, and watching her fill it up again.
"What are you so pensive about?" she demanded. "There's another bottle."
He had been thinking that his sister always confined him to two glasses, but he didn't say so, and under her skilful lead he was soon describing to her a Cowes regatta he had once seen, in which she professed to be amazingly interested.
"I tell you what it is," she remarked a little later on. "If I had a gorgeous palace like yours I'd have no end of a good time."
"Ah," said the Bishop, who was helping her to unfasten the second bottle of champagne, "I never thought of it in that light."
"No," returned his fair companion, "I suppose not. But you're losing lots of fun in life, and it does seem a shame, when you would so enjoy it."
"It does," said the Bishop, sampling the fresh bottle. "But then, you see, there's my sister, Miss Matilda—"