"Oh, I've given up that sort of thing years ago; but of course, if you're keen to go, I might stretch a point."
Mr. Walkingshaw looked at him doubtfully out of the corner of his eye and answered nothing.
A little later the two old friends had grown more merrily confidential than they had been since the days of their youth. Charlie Munro was a little puzzled by the subtle alteration in his host, but he was not in the least disposed to criticize it. He felt more and more inclined to tempt him into a further display of frivolity.
"Well, now, what about the Covent Garden ball?" he suggested.
Heriot's eyes grew bright, but his mouth pursed cautiously.
"Aren't they rather—er—fast?" he inquired.
"As fast as you choose to make 'em."
"But aren't the ladies rather—er—rather—well—"
"Not a bit," said the Colonel. "There's a mixture, that's all."