"Ah, now that's bad, my dear boy. You shouldn't neglect people, you know. And our dear Mrs. Machyn-Stubbs is exceedingly pleasant."
"As to neglecting her—I don't know that I have neglected her—particularly. What more could I do than call and leave my card?"
"Call again. You wouldn't leave off going to Lady Seely's because you happened not to find her at home once in a way."
"Lady Seely is my relation."
"H'm! Well, would you cut Lady Harriet Dormer for the same reason?"
"Cut her? But, my dear Mr. Price, you mustn't suppose that I have cut Mrs. Machyn-Stubbs!"
"Come, now, my dear fellow, I'm a great deal older than you are, and I'll take the liberty of giving you a bit of advice. Never offend people, who mean to be civil, merely because they don't happen to amuse you. What, the deuce, we can't live for amusement in this life!"
The moralising might be good, but the moralist was, Algernon thought, badly fitted with his part. He was tempted to retort on his new mentor, but he did not retort. He merely said, quietly:
"Has Mrs. Machyn-Stubbs been complaining of me, then?"
"Well, the truth is, she has—in an indirect kind of way; you know—what?"