Mr. Anerley did not enjoy the supper. Sometimes the fish seemed to stick in his throat; and the wine had a bitter flavour.
But he did not spoil the enjoyment of the others; and Dove's delight at recalling one of the old bygone evenings was immense. She persisted in making-believe that they had been to the theatre, and criticized the actors gravely and severely. She pecked at her little piece of fish like a thrush at a ripe white cherry; and she wore on her pretty, small, blue-veined wrist a wonderful bracelet that Will had brought her from abroad.
"Shall I kiss the goblet for you, Sir Knight?" she said, taking a little sip out of Will's glass.
"And yours, venerable sir?"
"It seems to me," said Mr. Anerley, "that the old custom was a system of levying blackmail on all the wineglasses round. Still, I will pay the price. Well, now it isn't bad wine; but the bouquet is clearly owing to you, Dove."
"I didn't like the lover to-night," said Dove, critically. "He seemed as if his clothes were quite new. I can't bear a lover coming with new clothes, and trying to make an effect. A lover should forget his tailor when he is in love. And I am against people being married in new clothes, with bridesmaids in new clothes, and everybody in new clothes, and everybody feeling cramped, and stiff, and embarrassed. When I marry, I shall have my husband wear the old, old suit in which I used to see him come home from his work!—the clothes which I've got to love about as much as himself. I shan't have the tailor come between him and me."
"The heroine was rather pretty," hazarded Will, concerning the imaginary play.
"Well, yes. But she made love to us, and not to him. And I can't bear kissing on the stage—before such a lot of people—why don't they do all that before they come on the stage, and then appear as engaged or married?"
"But you would have to employ a chorus to come and explain to the audience what was going on in the 'wings,'" said Will.
And so they chatted, and gossiped, and laughed, and it seemed as if they were again down in the old and happy Kentish valley.