"Only it's all so——How often had you met him, dear, before he proposed to you?"
"Thousands of times. Twice, to be exact."
She had already told her mother that she went to the firm of Leslie Campbell to purchase a special book published by them, which the libraries had informed her was out of print. For Gareth's sake she wanted as few persons as possible to know of "The Reverse of the Medal."
"We ought to ask some of his family, his near relations, to dinner. It's the proper thing to do. Do you know any of them, Pat?"
"Only Kathleen," murmured Patricia.
"His sister? How nice. Would she come?"
"N-no. I'm not sure that it would be frightfully nice.... Perhaps it had better not be put to the test, anyway. He has no relatives, mother; at least," darkly, "not presentable ones."
Mrs. O'Neill took the hint. But she was anxious not to offend etiquette over the details of Pat's engagement. People might hint that any deviation from the usual course was because it was not Ann engaged, or Hetty, her own daughters. She was always morbidly afraid of being saddled with the qualities of the traditional and legendary step-mother. And she happened to be warmly fond of Pat, and very dependent upon her.
"Then the firm of publishers, his employers—should they be invited to dine? What did you say were their names? Pat, I can see no reason to laugh."
"Sweetheart ... if I were walking out with a salesman at Lipton's, I shouldn't expect you to entertain Sir Thomas to high tea. The notion of a godfatherly Mr. Campbell and Mr. Alexander cutting the cake for me and Gareth, overpowers me. It does, verily."