‘Do you care for dogs, Mr. O’Rossa?’ queried the Bugg.
‘I’m very fond of them, Miss Bugg,’ he replied, ‘I keep several at home.’
‘How nice,’ said the Bugg feelingly, ‘then you must try White Rose soap with them, I’ll give you a cake of it, there’s nothing better.’
‘I should be surprised,’ said Squiff emphatically.
Ophelia, however, did not appear to be troubled by the inanity of his reply, but immediately passed on to discussing the ‘rowing races’ with Freddy, who gave her exceedingly novel explanations of those innocent affairs.
‘I suppose, Mr. Cochrane,’ said Lady Blitherington to me with a kindly smile, ‘I suppose you may stay out till ten o’clock?’
‘Certainly, Lady Blitherington,’ I assented, but forbore to mention how far she had undershot the mark.
‘Very well, then I will order tea for you before you go. I suppose you like tea after dinner, Mr. O’Rossa?’
‘Very much, indeed, my Lady,’ said Squiff, courteously, ‘I esteem it immensely;’ and this answer appeared to agitate Freddy afresh, as he doubtless reflected that Squiff never touches anything milder than Green Chartreuse after dinner except on very rare occasions, when he condescends to a cup of thick Turkish coffee at the Trocadero.
Before Freddy had reappeared from the shelter of his napkin, Miss Bugg, who had been endeavouring to shew me a new way of preparing strawberries with a steel knife, cut herself, and left the dining room in great haste, but we soon followed, and found her seated in an arm-chair, with Jacob fast asleep in her lap and the promised cake of White Rose soap in their immediate neighbourhood.