“There’s no angels in that house, or I am mistaken,” said Mr. Ogilvie.
“Well, there’s two very well-dressed girls, which is the nearest to it: and there’s another person, that may turn out even more important.”
“And who may that be?”
“Whist,” said Mrs. Ogilvie, holding up a finger of admonition as the others approached. “Well, Uncle John! And Effie, come you here and rest. Poor thing, you’re done out. Now I would like to have your frank opinion. Mine is that though it took a great deal of trouble, it’s been a great success.”
“The salmon was excellent,” said Mr. Moubray.
“And the table looked very pretty.”
“And yon grouse were not bad at all.”
“Oh,” cried Mrs. Ogilvie, throwing up her hands, “ye tiresome people! Am I thinking of the salmon or the grouse; was there any chance they would be bad in my house? I am meaning the party: and my opinion is that everybody was just very well pleased, and that everything went off to a wish.”
“That woman Lady Smith has a tongue that would deave a miller,” said the master of the house. “I request you will put her at a distance from me, Janet, if she ever dines here again.”
“And what will you do when she asks us?” cried his wife. “If she gives you anything but her right hand—my word! but you will be ill pleased.”