“It is not improbable,” she said. “Or did you really suppose that your house was going to make its debut again, and me not there?”
“Oh, well, I didn’t know,” he said.
“You do now. What fun it will be! It will be crammed with kings and queens like ‘Alice in Wonderland.’ Thurso, what a good thing Catherine is so smart! I hate the word, but she is: she is magnificent. She said the other day that there are only two sorts of entertaining possible—the one where you have a great party, with kings and queens, and everybody in orders and tiaras; and the other where it is just tea-gowns and two or three real friends. I don’t believe she has ever had a party at which there were more than eight people and less than forty.”
“It’s usually not less than forty,” remarked Thurso.
“Oh no; it’s often less than eight. Of course I shall come. Do have a special all the way to town; it will be so expensive! Catherine—I must quote her again—says, ‘Either have a special or go third.’”
“With a preference for specials?”
“Not at all. She doesn’t care which it is. She often goes third, and talks to the people. And on the tops of omnibuses. But she doesn’t go in cabs: she says they are middling, like parties of twenty to meet a Serene Transparency. If she can’t have the twenty-five million horse-power motor, up she gets on the omnibus. She never stops it, either, because of the horses. She runs after it, and jumps quite beautifully. I do admire her so.”
Thurso laughed.
“So do I. And it’s something to admire your wife when you have been married twelve years!”
Maud made a little sideways movement in her chair, as if her position had become suddenly uncomfortable. Her brother continued.