"Allow me," said Miss Press, rising gallantly from her chair, and dealing Mr. Harper a succession of hearty buffets in the middle of the back. "You really are the limit, Enery. You might never have been in love before."
"Chuck it, Pressy," said Miss Dobbs. "Let my Harry alone. My Harry's very clever, and his Cora's very proud of him. Aren't I, Harry?" Miss Dobbs flashed upon the unhappy young man a glance of very high candle power. She also sighed seraphically.
When Mr. Harper had swallowed his tea, of which one cup sufficed, and after abandoning any further attempt to deal with his buttered scone, the hostess gathered the tea things with the aid of her friends. She then took them to the back premises, declining further help. In spite of the protests of her guests, Miss Dobbs insisted on this self-denying course. She left Mr. Henry Harper in their care, and hoped they would do their best to amuse him during her absence.
XIII
"Harry," said Miss Press, with a dramatic change of tone as soon as the hostess had retired with the tea things, "Zoe and I have to talk to you very serious. Haven't we, Zoe?"
Miss Bonser nodded impressively.
"You are not playing fair with Cora, Harry."
During the slight pause which followed this statement, a look of fawnlike bewilderment flitted across the eyes of the Sailor.
"You are breaking her heart," said Miss Press, with tragic simplicity.