This drew loud approbation, and Chas (who was understood to be very attentive to a Miss Leither--Leither!--of the Woman's Exchange), laughing with the majority, threw up his hands, saying, "Hellup! Hellup!"
He fled to the kitchen to look after his little brown beauties. The noisy supper proceeded. Presently Major Cooney, the easy-going and reminiscent, gave the conversation a new tack.
"And where are your violets, Cally, my dear?" he asked, directing one of his mischievous winks at Looloo. "You must have a flower-shop full at home, if what we hear is true."
Carlisle, on the point of saying something slightly caustic about Chas as a swain, found the tables abruptly turned. All the Cooneys were looking at her. She said with equanimity that, on the contrary, she got so few flowers that when she did have any, she sat up at night with them just like Hen.
"And I'll wear 'em to the Masons' to-morrow night, too!" said Hen, throwing round a look which challenged contradiction.
"Now, cousin, what's the use?" said Chas, reëntering with his platter. "The Visitor is giving you the rush of your young life, and we're all on. Take a handful of my beauties."
"You mean Mr. Canning? My dear Chas, if he only were!"
There was no rebuffing the Cooneys. They began their little third-degree system.
"He called on you last Thursday afternoon, didn't he, Cally?" said Looloo, laughing, with a little face for her daring.
"One call, my dear child!"