"To my sorrow, I do. They clicked. And father and mother and Charles and Aunt Auriol are all potty."
"And so am I," she declared, "for he's a dear. And they all say it's time for Aunt Auriol to settle down. So they wanted to get him here and fix him. Charles says he's a shy bird----"
"But," I interrupted, "you're talking of the family. Your Aunt Auriol has a father, Lord Mountshire."
"He's an old ass," said Evadne.
"He's a peer of the realm," said I rebukingly, though I cordially agreed with her.
"He's not fit to be General Lackaday's ancient butler," she retorted.
"Is that your own?"
"No. It's Charles's. But I can repeat it if I like."
"And all this goes to prove----" said I.
"Well, don't you see? You are dense. The news that the General had gone to France knocked them all silly. Aunt Auriol's looking rotten. Charles says she's off her feed. You should have seen her last night at dinner, when they were talking about him."