"Engaged," she added, holding up a finger. "But he's not here, so it's all right for me to sit on the stairs with you. Here's something else that's funny: I haven't met the man they're giving the party for. Isn't that a scream? Somehow, we got in late, or something or other. He's awfully high-brow; oh, yes, I heard that the first thing. You're not high-brow, are you?"
Bill shook his head.
"It's comfortable to know you're not," she said. "Whenever I meet an intellect I make a holy show of myself. Did you know that he's sailing for Australia to-morrow? Uhuh! He's going there to study something or other. They told me that down-stairs, too. Let's see; what is it he's going to study? Crustaceans! That's it. What are they? Negroes?"
"I'm not up on them," said Bill. "Maybe."
"Anyhow, he's going to study them. And then he's going to write volumes and volumes about them. He's a scientist. Isn't it funny to be at a scientific party? And—oh, yes; it seems there's been an affair in his life. He's going away to bury his heart while he's studying the thingamajigs. Did you ever hear of anything so romantic?"
Bill turned his head for a better survey of the young person with the astonishing information.
"Where did you pick up all the info?" he inquired, as carelessly as he could.
"From a young man who knows all about him," answered Arnold Gibbs's little girl.
"What sort of a young man?"
"Oh, a nice one. He's kind of thin and pale and he has baby-stare eyes."