"They are in the other room this evening," said the chit. Her remark related to a mutual confidence between herself and Challis, begun on the lawn on the day of his arrival. They never spoke of anything else.
"I can hear them," said he. "They're making noise enough. But I thought they had quarrelled this morning?"
"This morning—oh yes!" This was very empressé. "But they made that up long ago!"
"When do they?... when are they?... when will it?... Clear, please! Oh no!—that'll do beautifully. I meant thick." This was to the servant, respecting soup.
"I'm so afraid it never will! Do you know, I really am!"
"Instances are not wanting of young ladies and gentlemen who haven't got married.... Hock, thank you!"
"Of course! But they always do, if they can. Don't they now, Mr. Challis?"
"I admit it. Unless they meet with someone they like better. Of course, that does happen."
"Oh yes—of course! But then it only matters when it isn't both." Challis, on the watch for copy, noticed that whenever this chit italicized a word—which was frequently—she opened her large blue eyes as far as possible.
"You express it to perfection. When it's both, it doesn't matter the least. But this time it's neither, so far!"