"That's Peekaboo's new bad habit," his sister gleefully proclaimed. "He says 'eh' to everything now."
Ambrose looked venomously at her, but said nothing.
"Do you know what we Scotch lads and lassies used to be taught in our nursery days?" Mr. Garrett enquired.
"Eh?"
"We used to be taught," Mr. Garrett said, with great distinctness and an air of originality, "Birds in their little nests agree."
"That's what Sarah says."
Mr. Garrett looked rather depressed at this unenthusiastic reception of his scholastic axiom.
There ensued a pause, during which Julian could hear his host and Lady Rossiter pursuing a conversation in which the last thing had long been said.
He turned to Miss Marchrose, and ill-adapted as were her twenty-eight years, her tired eyes, and her rather worn mauve foulard to bear comparison with the radiant Iris, Julian found it pleasant to look at her and to listen to her charming voice.
The satisfaction, however, was not afforded to him for long. "Auntie Iris! Shall I say my piece?" Ruthie asked in her accustomedly penetrating accents.