His hostess smiled. "I only said I would not allow him to work too hard while he was here, and I advised him to take a glass of new milk at tea-time."
"The new milk is making a new man of me," said Mr. Madderley, looking gratefully at Mrs. Ford for all his quizzing.
"Now milk really is a fattening thing," Isabel said, shaking her head, "so is water."
"Is it, dear lady? I never take it."
"Then you ought to; I always do."
"The fairest flowers demand their dew," murmured the artist, bowing to Isabel.
"And artists—like poets and muses and people of that sort—live upon nectar, I presume," she retorted.
"Certainly," replied Mr. Madderley, "it is always a case of nectar or nothing with us."
"I know it is ignorant of me," said Joanna, "but I always confuse nectar with manna."
"So do I," echoed Alice.