“Is it?” asked he, dubiously.
“Yes. Aunt Em, do have some pâté.”
“Innocent birds,” said Miss Fortescue.
“Quite innocent. I’ll give you some.”
Miss Fortescue watched Jeannie helping her with an absent eye, which suddenly became attentive.
“No truffles, Jeannie,” she said; “I can’t bear truffles. Why they put them in pâté I can’t think. It entirely spoils it.”
Jeannie laughed.
“The plot thickens,” she said. “As soon as you’ve finished eating the liver of diseased game, Aunt Em, we’ll go out.”
“Not diseased, dear,” said Miss Fortescue, earnestly, with her mouth full, “only unwisely fed. They feed them on figs. How delicious! And how unwise!”
“How clever and how immoral!” said Jeannie, who had gone as a guest to the Ladies’ Literary Union.