“Is that intended to be clever, dear, or only rude?” Miss Kite requested to be informed.
“Both,” claimed Miss Devine.
“Myself? I must confess,” shouted the tall young lady's father, commonly called the Colonel, “I found him a fool.”
“I noticed you seemed to be getting on very well together,” purred his wife, a plump, smiling little lady.
“Possibly we were,” retorted the Colonel. “Fate has accustomed me to the society of fools.”
“Isn't it a pity to start quarrelling immediately after dinner, you two,” suggested their thoughtful daughter from the sofa, “you'll have nothing left to amuse you for the rest of the evening.”
“He didn't strike me as a conversationalist,” said the lady who was cousin to a baronet; “but he did pass the vegetables before he helped himself. A little thing like that shows breeding.”
“Or that he didn't know you and thought maybe you'd leave him half a spoonful,” laughed Augustus the wit.
“What I can't make out about him—” shouted the Colonel.
The stranger entered the room.