"Oh," he responded, as she did not say any more. "Have you, Miss Wix?"
"Very good, I'm sure," she brought out, after a further silence. He would not have imagined the simple words capable of conveying so clearly that she thought it very small beer indeed. "I suppose you're in the middle of another?"
"No," he replied, "not yet."
"Really?"
She obviously considered that he ought to be.
"You should call her 'aunt,'" exclaimed Sam Walford. "You'll have to call her 'Aunt Emily.' We don't go in for formality, my boy. Rough diamonds!"
"Perhaps Mr. Kent thinks it would be rather premature," suggested Miss Wix.
He talked to Cynthia.
Fruit and fowls might be admired if he liked, and she and papa took him on a tour of inspection. There were moments when he was alone with Cynthia, while her father discovered that there weren't any eggs.
"He is very good-looking," said Mrs. Walford; "don't you think so?"