“He is with the Whitneys. Dancing with Anna, I think.”
“And he had better keep to that,” said Mr. Brandon, with a little nod. “He’ll get no harm there.”
We sat down, side by side. Taking a side-glance at him, I saw his eyes fixed on Mrs. and the Miss Clement-Pells, who were now mixing with the company. He did not know much about ladies’ dress, but theirs seemed to strike him.
“Showy, Johnny, is it not?”
“It looks very bright in the sun, sir.”
“No doubt. So do spangles.”
“It’s real, sir, that lace. Helen Whitney says so.”
“A great deal too real. So is the rest of it. Hark at the music and the corks and the laughter! Look at the people, and the folly!”
“Don’t you like the fête, sir?”
“Johnny, I hate it with my whole heart.”