“I regret to say they were out,” replied Mrs Patrick, with a withering glance round the table.
“Of course, it depends, too,” said Bloomfield, replying to Fairbairn’s last question and giving him an imperceptible sly kick under the table, “on whether it’s early or late in the season. If we were to play them in August they would know their own play as well as we know ours.”
“Only,” chimed in Riddell, “these county teams don’t stick to the same elevens as regularly as a school does.”
“My dear, have you done your tea?” inquired Mrs Patrick’s voice across the table.
“Yes. Shall I ring?” said the doctor.
“Allow me,” said Fairbairn, rising hastily, and nearly knocking over Miss Stringer in his eagerness.
The spinster, who had already received in her own opinion sufficient affront for one evening, put the worst construction possible on this accident, and answered with evident ill-temper, “You are very clumsy, sir!”
“I beg your pardon, indeed!” said Fairbairn. “I hope you are not hurt?”
“Be silent, sir!”
Fairbairn, quite taken aback by this unexpected exclamation, did not know what to say, and looked round inquiringly at the doctor, as much as to ask if the lady was often taken this way.