"Keeves! Keeves!" echoed her husband.
"Do you remember him?" asked his wife.
"Of course," he replied. "He was a M.F.H. and knew everyone" (everyone was here synonymous with the elect the Devitts were pining to meet on equal terms). "His was Sir Henry Ockendon's place."
The prospects of Mavis Keeves securing employment with the Devitts had, suddenly, increased.
"How was it he came 'down'?" asked the agreeable rattle, keenly interested in anything having to do with the local aristocracy, past or present.
"The old story: speculatin' solicitors," replied Montague, who made a point of dropping his "g's." "One week saw him reduced from money to nixes."
Mrs Devitt raised her eyebrows.
"I mean nothin'," corrected Devitt.
"How very distressing!" remarked Victoria in her exquisitely modulated voice. "We should try and do something for her."
"We will," said her father.