"And no evenings," cried Lydia, who was very glad there were not. "Poppa and I are coming soon to have a long evening—to play whist again."
"But, dear Mrs. Vrain, you are not going?"
"I must, dears," with a kiss all round. "I have such a lot to do, and Mr. Denzil is coming with me, as poppa wants to consult him about some law business. He's a barrister, you know."
"I hope Mr. Denzil will come and see us again," said Mrs. Pegall, shaking hands with Lucian. A fat, puffy hand she had, and damp.
"Oh, delighted! delighted!" said Denzil hurriedly.
"Cards and tea, and sensible conversation," said Beatrice seriously, "no more."
"You forget prayers at ten, dear," rejoined Cecilia in low tones.
"We are a plain family, Mr. Denzil. You must take us as we are."
"Thank you, Mrs. Pegall, I will."