“Well, you might have told me you knew him all this time!” that lady jovially cried. Then she had an equal confidence for Mrs. Nettlepoint. “It would have saved me a worry—an acquaintance already begun.”
“Ah my son’s acquaintances!” our hostess murmured.
“Yes, and my daughter’s too!” Mrs. Mavis gaily echoed. “Mrs. Allen didn’t tell us you were going,” she continued to the young man.
“She’d have been clever if she had been able to!” Mrs. Nettlepoint sighed.
“Dear mother, I have my telegram,” Jasper remarked, looking at Grace Mavis.
“I know you very little,” the girl said, returning his observation.
“I’ve danced with you at some ball—for some sufferers by something or other.”
“I think it was an inundation or a big fire,” she a little languidly smiled. “But it was a long time ago—and I haven’t seen you since.”
“I’ve been in far countries—to my loss. I should have said it was a big fire.”
“It was at the Horticultural Hall. I didn’t remember your name,” said Grace Mavis.