"Unfortunately, no!" observed Felix, mournfully; "but we may find a Vivian Grey."
Every one smothered a smile, the allusion was so patent.
"Well, he didn't succeed in the end," cried Peterson.
"Of course he didn't," retorted Felix, disdainfully; "he made an enemy of a woman, and a man who is such a fool as to do that deserves to fall."
"You have an excellent opinion of our sex, Mr. Rolleston," said Madge, with a wicked glance at the wife of that gentleman, who was listening complacently to her husband's aimless chatter.
"No better than they deserve," replied Rolleston, gallantly.
"But you have never gone in for politics, Mr. Frettlby?"
"Who?—I—no," said the host, rousing himself out of the brown study into which he had fallen. "I'm afraid I'm not sufficiently patriotic, and my business did not permit me."
"And now?"
"Now," echoed Mr. Frettlby, glancing at his daughter, "I intend to travel."