[He leaves the room precipitately.
Miss Stick. (offering to rise). It does seem to have upset him! Shall I go after him and see if I can't bring him round?
Mrs. Pomfr. (severely). Stay where you are, Harriet; he's better left to himself. If he wasn't so wropped up in his cookery, he'd know there's always a dish as goes the round untasted, without why or wherefore. I've no patience with the man!
Tred. (philosophically). That's the worst of 'aving to do with Frenchmen; they're so apt to beyave with a sutting childishness that—(checking himself)—I really ask your pardon, Mamsell, I quite forgot you was of his nationality; though it ain't to be wondered at, I'm sure, for you might pass for an Englishwoman almost anywhere!
Mlle. Chiffon. As you for Frenchman, hein?
Tred. No, 'ang it all, Mamsell, I 'ope there's no danger o' that! (To Miss Phillipson.) Delighted to see the Countess keeps as fit as ever, Miss Phillipson! Wonderful woman for her time o' life! Law, she did give the Bishop beans at dinner, and no mistake!
Phill. Her ladyship is pretty generous with them to most people, Mr. Tredwell. I'm sure I'd have left her long ago, if it wasn't for Lady Maisie—who is a lady, if you like!
Tred. She don't favour her ma, I will say that for her. By the way, who is the party they brought down with them? a youngish looking chap—seemed a bit out of his helement, when he first come in, though he's soon got over that, judging by the way him and your Lady Rhoda, Miss Dolman, was 'obnobbing together at table!
Phill. Nobody came down with my ladies; they must have met him in the bus, I expect. What is his name?
Tred. Why, he give it to me, I know, when I enounced him; but it's gone clean out of my head again. He's got the Verney Chamber, I know that much; but what was his name again? I shall forget my own next.