"Nearly four months," said Saunders, yawning.
"'Gad, this climate is enervating," was Britt's caustic comment.
Saunders was heels over head in love with Miss Pelham at this time, so it is not surprising that he had some sort of an idea about marriage, no matter whom it concerned.
Night after night, the Deppinghams and Brownes gave dinners, balls, musicales, "Bridges," masques and theatre suppers at the château. First one would invite the other to a great ball, then the other would respond by giving a sumptuous dinner. Their dinners were served with as much punctiliousness as if the lordliest guests were present; their dancing parties, while somewhat barren of guests, were never dull for longer than ten minutes after they opened. Each lady danced twice and then pleaded a headache. Whereupon the "function" came to a close.
For a while, the two hostesses were not in a position to ask any one outside their immediate families to these functions, but one day Mrs. Browne was seized by an inspiration. She announced that she was going to send regular invitations to all of her friends at home.
"Regular written invitations, with five-cent stamps, my dear," she explained enthusiastically. "Just like this: 'Mrs. Robert Browne requests the pleasure of Miss So-and-so's company at dinner on the 17th of Whatever-it-is. Please reply by return steamer.' Won't it be fun? Bobby, please send down to the bank for the stamps. I'm going to make out a list."
After that it was no unusual thing to see large packages of carefully stamped envelopes going to sea in the ships that came for the mail.
"And I'd like so much to meet these native Americans that you are asking," said Lady Agnes sweetly, and without malice. "I've always wondered if the first families over there show any trace of their wonderful, picturesque Indian blood."
"Our first families came from England, Lady Deppingham," said Drusilla, biting her lips.
"Indeed? From what part of England?" Of course, that query killed every chance for a sensible discussion.