"I do think a ball in a country-house the most using-up thing I know," he says, helping himself generously to cold game-pie. "It is twice the fun of a town affair, but it knocks one up—no doubt of it—makes a fellow feel so seedy and languid, and ruins the appetite."
"I think you will do uncommonly well if you finish what you have there," remarks Sir Mark, languidly.
Thornton roars: so does Billy.
"You have me there," says Chips. "I ought to have known better than to introduce that subject. My appetite is my weak point."
"Your strong point, I suppose you mean," puts in Sir Mark, faintly amused.
"I think the worse thing about a country ball is this," says Bebe; "one feels so lonely, so purposeless, when it is over. In town one will probably be going to another next evening; here one can do nothing but regret past glories. I wish it were all going to happen, over again to-night."
"So do I," says Thornton, casting a sentimental glance at the speaker. "I would go over every hour of it again gladly—old maids and all—for the sake of the few minutes for the sake of the few minutes of real happiness I enjoyed. There are some people one could dance with forever."
Lord Chandos, raising his head, bestows a haughty stare upon the youthful Chips, which is quite thrown away, as that gay young Don is staring in turn, with all his might, and with the liveliest admiration, at Miss Beatoun.
"Could you?" asks that fascinating person, innocently "Now I could not; at least I think I would like to sit down now and then. But, Phyllis, dear, seriously, I wish we were going to do something out of the common this evening."
"Try charades or tableaux," suggests 'Duke brilliantly. "The very thing! Tableaux let it be, by all means. Marmaduke, no one can say last night's dissipation has clouded your intellect. We will have them in the library, where the folding-doors will come in capitally."