"What a baby you are!" says Mr. Kelly. "Who could suppose you jealous of Bella Fitzgerald? 'Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere,' and I shouldn't think the fair Bella would have much motion if put in comparison with you. She always calls 'a spade a spade, and Branson's Essence of Coffee,' etc. In fact, she is material."
"That means she has common sense. Why call her 'material'?"
"Never mind. It is quite immaterial," says Mr. Kelly, tranquilly, after which silence reigns triumphantly for a moment or two, until a new figure presents itself on a small platform below them.
"Ah! there is Desmond," says Kelly. "He looks," innocently, "as if he was looking for somebody."
"I hope he will find her," remarks Miss Beresford, with some acerbity and a most unnecessary amount of color.
"Perhaps he is looking for me," says Mr. Kelly, naively.
"Perhaps so," dryly.
"At all events, whoever it is, she, or he, or it, seems difficult of discovery. Did you ever see so woebegone a countenance as his?"
"I think he looks quite happy enough," says Monica, without sympathy.
Kelly lets his languid gaze rest on her for a moment.