“I don’t think I made the hit you expected.”
“N-o-o-o, you didn’t exactly create a furore; but I don’t know that any one could do that with so much oxygen round: makes peoples so drowsy, don’t you know? But you were admired awfully. And then you are an unconventional beauty, and that always takes longer. Now, May made a howling sensation, but people are tired of her already. That type doesn’t wear. My plain phiz wears much better, because there was never any chance of reaction with me. Oh, dear, here comes Bev.”
A knock, and in response to Hal’s languid invitation, Beverly entered. He was in evening clothes, and as handsome as ever; but he looked rather sulky.
“You might have met me when I got home,” he said to his wife. “I haven’t seen you since luncheon.”
“Tragic!” exclaimed Hal.
“I was so tired I just drifted in here and fell in a heap,” said Patience, apologetically. “My skull feels empty, and aches inside and out.”
“Then you don’t like society?” said Mr. Peele, eagerly.
“Oh, very much indeed! I think it is delightful, delightful! Only the first time is rather trying, you know. I met some charming people, and want to meet them again.”
Peele grunted, and lit his cigar. His eyes devoured his wife’s fair face. Patience looked at Hal.
“My mother says you carried yourself very well,” remarked Mr. Peele, gracefully; “that after the first you were quite at your ease. That was one reason I went away: I was so afraid you’d break down, or something.”