"Now, Amelia; hadn't you better mind what you're doing?" said Mr. Simpson, setting the fallen rout-seat on its legs again. She irritated him occasionally, but he admired her smart gown very much nevertheless, and thought she looked remarkably well in it, and "quite the lady."
Other guests arriving now claimed the hostess's attention. And presently Clara Bertram, in her simple black evening dress, came into the room. Then appeared Mrs. Martin Bransby on the arm of her stepson, and bearing excuses from her husband, who was not feeling well enough to come out that evening. Her appearance called forth ejaculations of admiration from Mrs. Simpson, which, however exaggerated they might sound, were quite sincere. Mrs. Simpson gave utterance to a kind of prose rhapsody on the subject of Mrs. Bransby's dress; and then, bowing graciously to Theodore, said, "And Mr. Bransby Junior, too. When I had the pleasure of unexpectedly, and, indeed, fortuitously, meeting him the other evening at the house of a mutual friend, I remarked that he was paying Miss Piper a high compliment in abandoning Thetis" (the good lady probably meant Themis) "for the seductions of Apollo. But we are told, on the poet's authority, that 'music hath charms to soothe the savage——' Not, of course, that the epithet is applicable in this case. Quite the contrary." Then, turning her glistening spectacles on the young man, she playfully added, "But, in addition to the magic of the lyre, we have what Hamlet—if I mistake not—so eloquently characterizes as 'metal more attractive:' a collection of youth and beauty which might really, without hyperbole, be termed a bevy."
"That is an intolerable woman," muttered Theodore between his teeth, as he conducted his step-mother to a seat.
"Oh, poor Simmy!" remonstrated Mrs. Bransby. "She is a good creature. But to-night she is in what Bobby and Billy call one of her 'dictionary moods.'"
Rapidly the room filled up. Besides many other Oldchester notabilities with whom this chronicle is not concerned, there were present Major Mitton, Canon and Mrs. Hadlow (the latter bringing May under her wing), Owen Rivers, who came alone, Dr. Hatch, and Mr. Bragg.
Mr. Bragg, after paying his respects to the ladies of the house, and standing for a few minutes in his silent, forlorn-looking way, went up to May, and said, "Will you come and have a cup of tea, Miss Cheffington? They say hot tea cools you. That seems strange, don't it? But I believe it's true. Rule of contraries, I suppose."
May did not wish for any tea; but she saw Theodore Bransby hovering in the distance, and she accepted Mr. Bragg's proffered arm almost eagerly. She rather liked Mr. Bragg. His slow, quiet, common-sensible manner was soothing. And she knew enough of his unostentatious good works in Oldchester to have a considerable esteem for him.
He piloted May into the dining-room, where tea and coffee were being served, and where the new waiter from Winnick's was, so far, conducting himself in an exemplary manner.
"Have one of those little cakes, Miss Cheffington? They look very good."
"No, thank you."