“Perhaps,” suggested his wife, “it might be as well if Colonel Ruggles were to come to us as a guest.” She was regarding me with a gaze that was frankly speculative.
“Oh, not at all, not at all!” retorted Mrs. Effie crisply. “Having been announced as our house guest—never do in the world for him to go to you so soon. We must be careful in this. Later, perhaps, my dear.”
Briefly the ladies measured each other with a glance. Could it be, I asked myself, that they were sparring for the possession of me?
“Naturally he will be asked about everywhere, and there’ll be loads of entertaining to do in return.”
“Of course,” returned Mrs. Effie, “and I’d never think of putting it off on to you, dear, when we’re wholly to blame for the awful thing.”
“That’s so thoughtful of you, dear,” replied her friend coldly.
“At three, then,” said Belknap-Jackson as we arose.
“I shall be delighted,” I murmured.
“I bet you won’t,” said Cousin Egbert sourly. “He wants to show you off.” This, I could see, was ignored as a sheer indecency.
“We shall have to get a reception in quick,” said Mrs. Effie, her eyes narrowed in calculation.