"The air will do us good," added Miss Ethel, a little pink about the nose, but wishful to be polite.
"Well, there's plenty of it," he said bitterly, grabbing his hat, which threatened to blow away.
It was plain that he jested with an anxious heart, thinking of what might be said of his venture at the next Council meeting. Those very offensive fellows who always were against him would, of course, make capital out of this.… Suddenly he braced himself up and strode away across the lawn. They should frisk, if any influence of his could make 'em!
His wife looked after him sympathetically, then turned to Miss Ethel. "That's right!" she said. "Arthur will soon put a little more spirit into them. You see he knows how it is done. I shall never forget the way he entered into the spirit of the thing that time when we were abroad. If you could have seen him going down the Plage with a sort of a rattle in his hand and his hat on one side—— But there's something in the climate, of course."
"I suppose there must be," said Miss Ethel, with an involuntary glance at the couples jigging solemnly about the grass in front of her.
They sat silent for a time, feeling colder and colder, but sparing Mrs. Graham's feeling by remaining where they were. "Isn't that Caroline?" said Mrs. Bradford, after a long pause.
"I dare say. She told me the arrangements were somewhat different this evening, and she was to come off duty at half-past nine," said Miss Ethel.
Then Mr. Graham came back and bumped himself down so heavily on the wooden seat that the ladies felt a slight jar.
"No life!" he exclaimed. "No gaiety! No joie de vivre!" He paused, blowing his nose. "Well, this is the last time. I'll never attempt anything of the sort again."
"You must not say that. I am sure the Thorhaven people are grateful," murmured Miss Ethel.