The Duchessa had laughed. It was so entirely like Tibby to think of food the first thing.
“I know,” she had replied. And then reflectively, “I think it might be desirable to telephone to Doctor Hilary and ask him to come too. It really is not fair to ask Father Dormer to meet three solitary females.”
A second time Miss Tibbutt had momentarily and mentally surveyed the contents of the larder, and almost immediately had nodded her entire approval of the idea. She most thoroughly enjoyed the mild excitement of a little dinner party.
“Tibby, angel, what’s the matter with Pia?”
The question fell rather like a bomb, though quite a small bomb, into the sunshine.
“Matter with Pia,” echoed Miss Tibbutt. “What do you think, my dear?”
“That,” said Trix wisely, “is precisely what I am asking you?”
Miss Tibbutt laid down her knitting.
“But do you think anything is the matter?” she questioned anxiously.
“I don’t think, I know,” remarked Trix succinctly.