"It's very amusing," said Mr. Foss. "I wonder who the dark young man in the fancy knickers is?"
"Ah, I daresay you'll know some day," said Mrs. Dowson.
"Was the fair young man a good-looking chap?" inquired the inquisitive Mr. Foss.
Mrs. Dowson hesitated. "Yes," she said, defiantly.
"Wonder who it can be?" muttered Mr. Foss, in perplexity.
"You'll know that too some day, no doubt," was the reply.
"I'm glad it's to be a good-looking chap," he said; "not that I think Flora believes in such rubbish as fortune-telling. She's too sensible."
"I do," said Flora. "How should she know all the things I did when I was a little girl? Tell me that."
"I believe in it, too," said Mrs. Dowson. "P'r'aps you'll tell me I'm not sensible!"
Mr. Foss quailed at the challenge and relapsed into moody silence. The talk turned on an aunt of Mr. Lippet's, rumored to possess money, and an uncle who was "rolling" in it. He began to feel in the way, and only his native obstinacy prevented him from going.