"And his brains exactly resemble both yours and Harry's, dear," she said—"that is to say, they are no particular brains."
Evie took no notice whatever of this vitriolic comment.
"And its eyes are certainly Harry's eyes," she went on. "Oh, I went to see Jim's wife to-day, you know the dairymaid whom Harry was supposed—— Well, I went to see her. Jim was there too. I love Jim. You know the resemblance to Harry is simply ridiculous. I was in continual fear lest I should forget it was Jim and say, 'Come, darling, it's time to go.' And then Harry might have behaved as I once did. Oh, here's nurse.—What a bore you are, nurse, O my own angelic!"
Evie gave up a kiss-smothered baby, and went across to where Lady Oxted was sitting.
"And Mrs. Jim's baby, I must allow, has its points," she continued. "That's why I'm sure that Geoff's eyes are like Harry's, because Geoff's eyes are exactly like Jim's baby's eyes, and Jim is Harry. By the way, where is the spurious Geoff,—the old one, I mean?"
"The old one went out within five minutes of his arrival here," said Lady Oxted. "I tried to make myself agreeable to him, but apparently I failed, for he simply yawned in my face, and said, 'Where's Harry?'"
"Yes, Aunt Violet," said Evie, "you and I sha'n't get a look in while those men are here, and we had better resign ourselves to it, and take two nice little back seats. In fact, I felt a little neglected this morning. Harry woke with a great stretch and said, 'By gad, it's Tuesday!—Geoff and the beloved doctor come to-day,' and he never even said good-morning to the wife of his bosom."
"He's tiring of you," remarked Lady Oxted.
"I know; isn't it sad, and we have been married less than a year? As I was saying, he got up at once, instead of going to sleep again, and I heard him singing in his bath. Oh, I just love that husband of mine," she said.
"So you have told me before," said Lady Oxted acidly.