The sight of a covered dish of hot cakes recalls to Talbot the original object of his visit.
'Oh, by the bye, I was forgetting! I have a message for you from Lady Roupell.'
'Have you?'
She is standing, straight and lithe as a young poplar, by the tea-table, brandishing a brown teapot in her hand.
'Yes. She bid me tell you that they are all coming down to see you to-morrow afternoon.'
Is it his imagination that a sudden slight stiffening comes over her as he speaks—a stiffening that seems to extend even to the friendly teapot?
'And also,' continues he, not much liking his errand, and hastening to get it over, 'she desired me to say that, as she is particularly fond of muffins, and as yours are an exceptionally good——'
'Are you sure that she said all that?' interrupts Prue, with a sceptical gaiety. 'She is not generally so polite. She generally says only, "Girls, I'm coming; have lots of muffins!"'
Talbot laughs, convicted.
'Perhaps that was nearer the mark.'