"What do you think of a wedding, now you've seen one? This is your first experience, I presume?"
Ambrose looked absent-minded, gazed up enquiringly through his spectacles for a moment, and then said, "Eh?" all over again.
"My dearr child, don't say 'eh,' like that!" rather testily exclaimed the old man, a prey to the universal impulse of annoyance which almost invariably assailed everyone entering into conversation with the unfortunate Ambrose.
"What does your little sister say?"
"I like being bridesmaid," Ruthie announced in self-satisfied tones. "Uncle Douglas gave me a bangle." She thrust the trinket forward for inspection, and old Mr. Garrett admired it gravely.
"I suppose that's what you call a sweet thing? Isn't that the great word? Well, my dearr child, I'm glad you're satisfied."
Ruthie looked at him intelligently.
"I only hope that Auntie Iris will have a baby soon, because then Sarah says it will be my first cousin, and I haven't got any."
On this delicate aspiration of Miss Easter's the conversation came to a rather abrupt conclusion.
"Iris ought to be ready now," said Mark; "they won't have too much time to get to the station."