"How dreadfully unpleasant I am really," said Miss Grantham meditatively. "A kind of Eugene Aram."
Jack was acutely uncomfortable, but he had the satisfaction of believing that what Dodo said about him was true. He had come to the same conclusion himself two nights ago. He believed that he would stop short of any act of disloyalty, but he did not care about hearing Dodo give him so gratuitous a testimonial before Miss Grantham and the gentleman whom he mentally referred to as "that ass of a showman."
The front door opened, and a blast of cold wind came blustering round into the inner hall where they were sitting, making the thick tapestry portière belly and fill like a ship's sail, when the wind first catches it. The collie pricked his ears, and thumped his tail on the floor with vague welcome.
Mrs. Vivian entered, followed by Lord Chesterford. He looked absurdly healthy and happy.
"It's a perfectly beastly day," he said cheerfully, advancing to the fireplace. "Mrs. Vivian, let Dodo send you some tea up to your room. You must be wet through. Surely it is tea-time, Dodo."
"I told you so," said Dodo to Jack.
"Has Jack been saying it isn't tea-time?" asked Chesterford.
"No," said Dodo. "I only said that your virtue in going to see almshouses would find its immediate reward in an appetite for tea."
Mrs. Vivian laughed.
"You mustn't reduce our virtues to the lowest terms, as if we were two vulgar fractions."