"Blexey, you're a ghoul. Go away," said Mona imperiously.
"I'm a United Inhabitant of the Celestial Regions," said Mrs. Blexey with dignity; "but I see that you want to feed him, my dear lady. May the dear Lord bless your marriage, and happy I am that I should have lived to see this day."
She waited for a reply, but Mona was too busy assisting Prelice with his breakfast to answer, and the young man was too busy admiring Mona to worry about the stout housekeeper. So she heaved a sigh, and retired in a flood of tears, as she thought how happy they would be. It was an odd way of showing her joy; but Mrs. Blexey, after the manner of her class, wept indiscriminately for a wedding or for a funeral.
"Mona, dearest and best," said Prelice when half way through his second egg, "I am a selfish beast. You are looking tired, and here I am letting you feed me."
"I am not tired at all," denied the girl vigorously, "but my nerves are a trifle out of order after what I have undergone. Hush! eat your breakfast, you tiresome boy."
"Will you give me a kiss if I drink another cup of coffee?"
"No. I'll give you a cigarette. Then you can sleep, and get up at midday. Mr. Shepworth and Mr. Martaban want to see you on business."
"Why do you speak of Ned so stiffly, Mona?"
"I am engaged to you now," she replied demurely.
"That doesn't mean poor Ned is to be left out in the cold."