'Mad our friend is, no doubt, Lady Sinfi,' said the painter, without looking round, 'but not so mad as certain illustrious Gorgios I could name, some of them born legislators and some of them (apparently) born. R.A.'s.'
'Who should ha' thought of seein' 'em both here?' said Sinfi again.
'That,' said the painter, without even yet turning to look at us or staying the movement of his brush, 'is a remark I never make in a little dot of a world like this, Lady Sinfi, where I expect to see everybody everywhere. But, my dear Romany chi,' he continued, now turning slowly round, 'in passing your strictures upon the Gorgio world, you should remember that you belong to a very limited aristocracy, and that your remarks may probably fall upon ears of an entirely inferior and Gorgio convolution.'
'No offence, I hope.' said Sinfi.
'Offence in calling the Gorgios mad? Not the smallest, save that you have distinctly plagiarised from me in your classification of the Gorgio race.'
His companion called out again. 'Just one moment! Do come and look at the position of this tree.'
'In a second, Wilderspin, in a second,' said the other. 'An old friend and myself are in the midst of a discussion.'
'A discussion!' said the person addressed as Wilderspin. 'And with whom, pray?'
'With Lady Sinfi Lovell,—a discussion as to the exact value of your own special kind of madness in relation to the tomfooleries of the Gorgio mind in general.'
'Kekka! kekka!' said Sinfi, 'you shouldn't have said that.'