Hephzy poured the tea. Frances, cup in hand, looked about her.
“This is rather a nice place, after all,” she observed, “isn't it.”
“It's a real lovely place,” declared Hephzy with enthusiasm.
The young lady cast another appraising glance at our surroundings.
“Yes,” she repeated, “it's a jolly old house and the grounds are not bad at all.”
Her tone nettled me. Everything considered I thought she might have shown a little more enthusiasm.
“I infer that you expected something much worse,” I observed.
“Oh, of course I didn't know what to expect. How should I? I had no hand in selecting it, you know.”
“She's hardly seen it,” put in Hephzy. “She was too sick when she came to notice much, I guess, and this is the first time she has been out doors.”
“I am glad you approve,” I observed, drily.