"By Jove! he's dancing with her a second time, and there's that superannuated father of his, looking on! Wouldn't any one think Mr. Pynsent was staring at a puppet-show? I'll take the old gentleman home."
Mrs. Pynsent rose for the purpose of joining her husband, who was enjoying the apparent gaiety of his son. Lady Wetheral joined her at that most inopportune moment, and began a subject most offensive to her feelings.
"I am delighted to see your son in such excellent spirits to-night, my dear Mrs. Pynsent: it is an infectious disorder which I already feel stealing upon me. Such joyous spirits generally take effect upon those around."
"What ails Tom that he should not be gay?" growled Mrs. Pynsent. "Mothers court him and daughters flirt with him; what else can he require in a ball-room?"
Lady Wetheral felt piqued.
"The last time I had the pleasure of seeing your son, he was not so gaily inclined. I am glad his dejection has passed away."
"When did you see Tom out of spirits?" abruptly inquired Mrs. Pynsent.
"At Wetheral," replied her ladyship, in a gentle tone, while her heart longed for farther questioning.
"Umph! Men require spirits sometimes, when they are running the gauntlet."
"Mr. Pynsent won my admiration and regard by his honourable manner of acting," continued Lady Wetheral, who had now got into deep water; "he was always a particular favourite of mine, and I deeply regretted my daughter did not accept a man so much...."