Neither of the young people attempted to carry on the conversation, and Mrs. Marshall was somewhat at a loss. Turning at last to Ruth, she asked sharply where the remainder of the guests were.
"Dinner will be ready in a quarter of an hour," she went on, consulting a jewelled watch that hung at her girdle. "I hope we shall sit down punctually, for I detest waiting."
"So do I," assented her niece, cheerfully. "I am hungry."
The elder lady took no notice of the flippant reply. "Have you been giving any concerts lately?" she asked, with the supercilious patronage of a rich society woman.
"No, madam," replied the young man. His frequent contact with foreign artists had accustomed him to this form of address. "The season in London is hardly propitious just now. I am resting."
"When do you begin again?"
"After the new year. It is possible I may give some concerts in Paris."
"It might be advisable for you to leave England for a time," the lady said, drily, looking at Ruth.
"My aunt is thinking of your delicate appearance, Mr. Webster," interposed the girl, trying to parry the stroke. "This foggy climate does not suit you in her opinion. Is that not so, Aunt Inez?"
"Well, it is not quite what I meant, Ruth." And she turned to Neil. "Have you any relatives in England. Mr. Webster?" she asked.