The girl was so engaged with her friends that the first time failed to do the trick. Repeating the performance, she clapped still louder, one, two, three! Then the fairy godmother suddenly looked Mame full in the eye. For one brief instant a kind of mild surprise shone over her and then she said quite cheerily; “It is sporting of you to show up here.”
Miss Amethyst Du Rance took a strong pull of her young self. This scene belonged entire to Lady C. de Vere, a fact she must not forget. “Not at all,” was Mame’s answer. She prided herself that it was a good answer. Already she had learned that in London, England, the Cream when in doubt either said “Quite” or “Not at all.”
“Can you tell me which is King George?” Mame congratulated herself that her fool mind was functioning. And if the apt question was put in a voice that at Cowbarn would have ranked as a mere whisper, even amid the spate of conversation it was fully audible.
“Not here yet,” was the answer, casual but gay. “Shouldn’t wonder if he’s splitting a small soda with Uncle John.”
“Oh!” said Mame. So cool, so unconcerned, so chaffing was the jane about it all, that from the tone of her Mame was by no means sure that she was not a royalty herself.
“I just want to thank you right from my heart, for sending me this invite.”
“Jolly good of you to come.” Nothing could have been lighter than the girl’s tone, but in Mame’s opinion nothing could have been more pleasant.
Her next remark sent her up still higher in Mame’s esteem. “Would you like some tea?” The words as well as the tone were music.
“I’ll say yes.” Such fervour was in Mame’s reply that it seemed as if Lady Clara de Vere had missed her cue.
“Come on, then. Let us go downstairs to the buffet before the mob breaks loose.”