"Because," Eloquent took a deep breath and watched his aunt closely,
"I'm dining at the Manor that night."
"Then," said Miss Gallup sharply, "you don't have a bed here."
"Why ever not?" and in his astonishment Eloquent dropped into the
Garsetshire idiom he was usually so careful to avoid.
"Because," Miss Gallup was flushed and tremulous, "no one shall ever say I was as a drag on you."
"But, Aunt Susan, no one could say it, and if they did, what would it matter? and what in the world has that to do with giving me a bed?"
"My dear," said Miss Gallup, "I know my place if you don't. When you goes to dinner with Squire Ffolliot you must go properly from Marlehouse like anybody else—you must drive out, or hire a motor and put it up there, same as other people do, and go back again to your own house where you're known to be—it's in the paper. There's no sort of use draggin' me in. I always knew as you'd get there some day, and now you've got there and no one's pleasder than me. Do show me the invitation."
Eloquent took a note from his breast-pocket and handed it to his aunt, who put on her spectacles and read aloud, slowly and impressively:—
Dear Mr Gallup,—If you have no other engagement, will you come and dine with us on the twenty-first at eight o'clock. It will give us great pleasure if you can.—Yours sincerely,
MARGERY FFOLLIOT.
"H'm, now that's not what I should have expected," Miss Gallup said in a disappointed tone. "I should have thought she'd 'a said, 'Mr and Mrs Ffolliot presents their compliments to Mr Gallup, and requests the pleasure of his company at a dinner-party'—I know there is a party, for Dorcas did tell Em'ly-Alice there was going to be one; only last night she was talking about it—it's downright blunt that note—I call it——"