"Did you know," said Mrs. Arles, after a half-hour's silence, "that Marlboro' has returned?"
"Marlboro'?" repeated Éloise, hesitatingly.
"Marlboro' of Blue Bluffs."
"Oh, yes. And five's eleven. No," said Éloise, absently and with half a sigh. "I've never seen him, you know,—he's been in Kamtschatka and the Moon so long. How did you know?"
"Hazel told me. Hazel wants to marry his Vane."
"His what?"
"Not his weathercock. Vane, his butler."
"That is why she behaved so. Dancing quicksilver. Then, perhaps, he'll buy her. What a relief it would be!"
"Marlboro' is a master!" said Mrs. Arles, emphatically.