“Mrs. Baines has given me some useful hints about birds,” Mr. Fisher told Florence with a suspicion of amusement in his voice: “if I had been as wise formerly as she has made me to-night the white cockatoo might have been living still. We ought to have met years ago, Mrs. Baines,” he said, turning to her.
“I think so too,” she said winningly. “It is such a pleasure to meet dear Walter’s and Florence’s friends,” she added, looking round the table and giving a strange little wink at the last word that made Mr. Wimple feel almost uncomfortable. “It is a privilege that I have looked forward to for years, but that living in the country has hitherto made impossible. Now that I am in London I hope I shall meet them all in turn.” Then she lowered her voice and went on to the editor: “I have heard so much of you, Mr. Fisher, if you will forgive me for saying so, though a great career like yours implies that all the world has heard of you.”
“I wish it could be called a great career, my dear lady,” he answered, feeling that she was a person whose death would deserve a paragraph simply on account of the extraordinary knowledge of the world she possessed. “Unfortunately it has been a very ordinary one, but I can assure you that I am most glad to meet you to-night. I ought to have been at a City dinner, and shall always congratulate myself on my happier condition.”
“I should like to see a City dinner,” Mrs. Baines said sadly.
“I wish I could send you my invitations. I go to too many, I fear.”
“I suppose you have been to a great many also, Mr. Wimple?” Aunt Anne inquired, careful to exclude no one from her little court.
“To one only, I regret to say, Mrs. Baines,” Mr. Wimple answered solemnly; “four years ago I went to the solitary one I ever attended.”
“Ah, that was during the mayoralty of Sir William Rammage.”
“Do you know him, Mrs. Baines, or do you keep a record of the Lord Mayors?” Mr. Fisher asked.
“I knew him well, years and years—I am afraid I should shock you—you are all so young—if I said how many years ago,” she answered; and Mr. Fisher, who was well on in his forties, thought she was really a charming old lady.