Jane advanced to the couch with outstretched hands. Her eyes were shining and her lips smiling.
"Did your husband swear?" I asked as she kissed me.
"Certainly not," said the Doctor. "How's my patient to-day?"
"Quite well, thank you," I replied. "Now that you've got Jane safely tied up you'll begin to remember that you have some patients hanging on your words. Jane, he mustn't let his practice go to the wall. You have to live, you know."
"There's another carriage," said Dimbie, looking through the window. "Ah, and here's Nanty!—what a howling swell!—and a whole host of people I don't know."
"Jane, I am frightened of Miss Rebecca Sharp. Stand by me when you introduce us. I am not used to Suffragettes," I said.
And a most delightful half-hour followed, while we discussed Jane's and Amelia's united efforts at refreshments. Dimbie would not permit my being wheeled to the refreshment-room and noise, so my cake and champagne were brought to the drawing-room, and I was entertained in turn by Nanty and Professor Leighrail, the Doctor and Jane, Miss Rebecca Sharp, who was most mild and unassuming, Mr. Tom Renton, the best man, who ran to a heavy moustache and pimples, and even Peter came for a moment to give me his opinion of Amelia's jelly.
Nanty and the Professor interested me greatly. She, resplendent in purple velvet and old lace, was composed and sarcastic; he genial, happy, and detached.
"Down with all weddings!" was the gist of her conversation.
"Do all you can to encourage them," said the Professor cheerfully.