“I thought about Tuesday next,” said Dick, completely off his guard.
“Oh, I should think it would be all right by then. By the way, do come and lunch with Edith and me. Ambrose too, of course. It’s a sort of festal occasion, you see, as Peggy and I have both passed.”
“And Daisy,” said Ambrose. He hated people to not think of other people.
“Oh, everyone knew that Daisy would pass,” said Hugh. “The thank-offering is for Aunt Peggy and me. Let’s go. I think Peggy has asked the whole population to lunch, and I know I have. There probably won’t be enough to eat.”
Dick suddenly started forward on the left foot.
“Just look a moment, Hugh,” he said.
He made a beautiful turn, and a severe, unbending edge after it.
“I shall go up for the test on Monday,” he said with noble courage. “Ah, by the way, ‘I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance.’ How would that do for the motto of a skating club? I shall certainly form a skating club when I get back to Mannington. You and I will be there to coach the beginners, I hope.”
“I think ‘The frequent fall’ would be a better motto,” said Hugh.
The “festal occasion” was extraordinarily festive. The whole population, as Hugh had said, appeared to have been invited, and the whole population came. And the spring, the origin of the enjoyment of everyone, was the huge enjoyment of Peggy and Hugh. And the spring of their enjoyment sat at the head of the table. She was better, better, much better, incredibly better. It was no wonder that mirth abounded. For mirth is more infectious than any disease, and Hugh and Peggy scattered it. And they had passed their test and the sun shone, and it was hotter now than it had ever been, and a great frost was coming to-night which made the day so beautiful. And Edith was better, incredibly better. It always came back to that. It was from that that the mirth sprang.