"Are you going to the party?" he asked.
"Look at me!" replied his guest. "No, not at my face,"—Pip was regarding her resolutely between the eyes,—"my clothes. Can't you see I'm dressed for a party?"
"Ah!" remarked Pip meditatively, shifting his gaze lower down, "I see. You are coming with us, I suppose?"
"Not us," interposed Pipette,—"you."
"What! aren't you coming yourself?"
"No. The Lindons are to be here for lunch, and I must stay and entertain the old lady while Father and Sir John sit in the study and talk shop."
"Bad luck!" replied Pip. "Sir John Lindon and the dad are always searching about inside people and finding new diseases," he explained, turning to Elsie. "It is called Research. I remember once in the 'lab' at—"
"So you must escort Miss Innes, Pip," said Pipette hastily.
"Right! That will be first-rate," said Pip, with a heartiness which quite surprised himself.
Presently they went down to lunch, and after Pip had arrayed himself in tennis costume, the two set off for the Blanes' garden-party.