"You think so?" she asked without conviction.
It is not good for a young girl to be burdened with great possessions; they distort her outlook on life. I wondered to what extent Sylvia was being troubled in anticipation, but the wonder was idle: nature had troubled her with sufficient good looks to make mercenary admirers superfluous.
"Most people...." I began, but stopped as she came to a sudden standstill.
"I say, we forgot all about Mr. Aintree!" she exclaimed.
"He didn't come," I reassured her.
"Oh, Phil said perhaps he mightn't. I gather he usually does accept invitations and not turn up. I hate people who can't be reasonably polite."
"He usually refuses the invitation," I said in the Seraph's defence.
"Why?"
I shrugged my shoulders.
"Shyness, I suppose."