CHAPTER IV.
WISH we could do something for Aunt Anne,” Mrs. Hibbert said to her husband that evening. “It was very kind of her to send us those flowers.”
“Let’s ask her to dine.”
“Of course we will—she is longing to see you; still, asking her to dine will not be doing anything for her.”
“But it will please her very much; she likes being treated with respect,” Walter laughed. “Let’s send her a formal invitation. You see these people she is with evidently like her and may give her a hundred or two a year, quite as much as she wants, so that all we can do is to show her some attention. Therefore, I repeat, let’s ask her to dine.”
“It’s so like a man’s suggestion,” Florence exclaimed; “but still, we’ll do it if you like. She wants to see you. Of course she may not be able to come if her time is not her own.”
“We must risk that—I’ll tell you what, Floggie dear, ask her for next Thursday, with Fisher and Wimple and Ethel Dunlop. She’ll make the number up to six, which will be better than five. It will please her enormously to be asked to meet people—in your invitation say a small dinner-party.”
“Very well. It will be a comfort if she takes Mr. Wimple off our hands. Perhaps she will.”