At this moment, as if to give the lie to Mrs. Dengelton’s assertion, her nephew entered the room, laughing, in company with the Rector; but the good lady did not know that she was the cause of this hilarity, and at once began to deluge the new-comers with the fountain of her small talk.
“Now, my dear Rector and my dear Maurice, what are you laughing at? Is it some amusing joke? Oh, I am sure it is! Eunice, Mr. Crispin, we are going to be told something funny”—
“But really, my dear lady,” began the Rector, with uplifted hand, “I”—
“Now you need not tell me it is not funny, because it has made Maurice laugh, and he has been as grave as a judge since we came down. I was just saying to Eunice when you came in”—
“My dear aunt, the joke is not worth telling you,” said Maurice, in desperation cutting her short.
“Ah, I knew there was a joke! Do tell it to Eunice! she is so fond of amusing stories, especially from you.”
Maurice flushed angrily.
“I don’t tell amusing stories,” he said curtly, and walked across to the piano.
“Such a bad temper!” sighed the Parrot, shaking her head; “so like his poor dear father, who foamed at the mouth when in a rage.”
“Oh, come, not so bad as that,” said the Rector good-naturedly.