Miss Bart put down her pen and sat absently gazing at the note she had begun.
“I thought that was all over,” she said.
“So it is, on his side. And of course Bertha has been idle since. But I fancy she’s out of a job just at present—and some one gave me a hint that I had better ask Lawrence. Well, I DID ask him—but I couldn’t make him come; and now I suppose she’ll take it out of me by being perfectly nasty to every one else.”
“Oh, she may take it out of HIM by being perfectly charming—to some one else.”
Mrs. Trenor shook her head dolefully. “She knows he wouldn’t mind. And who else is there? Alice Wetherall won’t let Lucius out of her sight. Ned Silverton can’t take his eyes off Carry Fisher—poor boy! Gus is bored by Bertha, Jack Stepney knows her too well—and—well, to be sure, there’s Percy Gryce!”
She sat up smiling at the thought.
Miss Bart’s countenance did not reflect the smile.
“Oh, she and Mr. Gryce would not be likely to hit it off.”
“You mean that she’d shock him and he’d bore her? Well, that’s not such a bad beginning, you know. But I hope she won’t take it into her head to be nice to him, for I asked him here on purpose for you.”
Lily laughed. “MERCI DU COMPLIMENT! I should certainly have no show against Bertha.”