"Well," I went on judicially, "whenever it began, it was high time for it to end. She can do a good deal better than Flurry."
Philippa became rather red in the face.
"I call that a thoroughly commonplace thing to say," she said. "I dare say he has not many ideas beyond horses, but no more has she, and he really does come and borrow books from me——"
"Whitaker's Almanack," I murmured.
"Well, I don't care, I like him very much, and I know what you're going to say, and you're wrong, and I'll tell you why——"
Here Mrs. Cadogan came into the room, her cap at rather more than its usual warlike angle over her scarlet forehead, and in her hand a kitchen plate, on which a note was ceremoniously laid forth.
"But this is for you, Mrs. Cadogan," said Philippa, as she looked at it.
"Ma'am," returned Mrs. Cadogan with immense dignity, "I have no learning, and from what the young man's afther telling me that brought it from Aussolas, I'd sooner yerself read it for me than thim gerrls."
My wife opened the envelope, and drew forth a gilt-edged sheet of pink paper.
"Miss Margaret Nolan presents her compliments to Mrs. Cadogan," she read, "and I have the pleasure of telling you that the servants of Aussolas is inviting you and Mr. Peter Cadogan, Miss Mulrooney, and Miss Gallagher"—Philippa's voice quavered perilously—"to a dance on next Wednesday. Dancing to begin at seven o'clock, and to go on till five.—Yours affectionately, MAGGIE NOLAN."