But Lord Vignoles, having caught his wife's eye, was performing a humorous grimace, and, watch in hand, delivering a pantomimic indictment of American unpunctuality. At which moment Miss Oppner was announced, and Lady Vignoles made a pretty moue of triumph.
Zoe Oppner entered the room, regally carrying her small head crowned with the slightly frizzy mop of chestnut hair, conscious of her fine eyes, her perfect features, and her pretty shoulders, happy in her slim young beauty, and withal wholly unaffected. Therein lay her greatest charm. A beautiful woman, fully aware of her loveliness, she was too sensible to be vain of a gift of the gods—to pride herself upon a heavenly accident.
"Why, Zoe!" said Lady Vignoles, "what's become of uncle?"
"Pa couldn't get," announced Zoe composedly; "so I came along without him. Told me to apologise, but didn't explain. I've promised to rejoin him early, so I shall have to quit directly after dinner. The car is coming for me."
Lord Vignoles looked amused.
"Les affaires!" he said resignedly. "These Americans!"
Dinner was announced.
The usual air of slightly annoyed surprise crept over the faces of the company at the announcement, so that to the uninitiate it would have seemed that no one was hungry. However, they accepted the inevitable.
Then Vignoles made a discovery.
"I say, Sheila," he exclaimed, "where is your American efficiency? We're thirteen!"