"Miss Winifred Woodpecker?" said Lillie queryingly. "I suppose it's another candidate. Show her in."
Miss Woodpecker was a tall stately girl, of the kind that pass for lilies in the flowery language of the novelists.
"Have I the pleasure of speaking to Miss Dulcimer?"
"Yes, I am Miss Dulcimer," said Lillie.
"And where is the Old Maids' Club?" further inquired Miss Woodpecker, looking around curiously.
"Here," replied Lillie, indicating the epigrammatic antimacassars with a sweeping gesture. "No, don't go, Lord Silverdale. Miss Woodpecker, this is my friend Lord Silverdale. He knows all about the Club, so you needn't mind speaking before him."
"Well, you know, I read the leader in the Hurrygraph about your Club this morning."
"Oh, is there a leader?" said Lillie feverishly. "Have you seen it, Lord Silverdale?"
"I am not sure. At first I fancied it referred to the Club, but there was such a lot about Ptolemy, Rosa Bonheur's animals and the Suez Canal that I can hardly venture to say what the leader itself was about. And so, Miss Woodpecker, you have thought about joining our institution for elevating female celibacy into a fine art?"
"I wish to join at once. Is there any entrance fee?"