"Apes?" she answers stoutly. "Of course we did—Polly, Robert, all of us. We expected to see monkeys, apes, chimpanzees, gorillas even; she said it was a splendid one. What are we to see, Tom?"
"Bees, Addie."
"Bees," she echoes blankly—"only bees! I do call that a 'sell,' and no mistake! Going to ride nine miles to see a lot of stupid old bees! Oh, won't the others be just mad! And Polly and I after stuffing our saddles with sugar and nuts and eau-de-Cologne—oh, dear!"
"I sympathize with you, my dear; and I think Robert might have remembered enough of his Latin to know that apis means 'bee.'"
"Such a long uninteresting ride too along the quarry road!" she grumbles. "I—I suppose you wouldn't be tempted to join our festive party, would you?"
"Unfortunately I have to return to Kelvick. I'm engaged to dine with Challice the banker."
"At his club?"
"No; at his private residence."
"Oh, I see! I suppose you'll have a very pleasant evening?"
"I hope so. By the bye, I think I'll remain at the factory all night. They generally keep it up rather late at the bank-house. Challice is an indefatigable whist-player."