“Does any one know the name of the Wellses’ butler? Is it Hawkins?”
I said nothing, and as Sperry was the only one likely to know and he had
gone, the inquiry went no further. Looking back, I realize that
Herbert, while less cynical, was still skeptical, that his sister was
non-committal, but for some reason watching me, and that Mrs. Dane was
in a state of delightful anticipation.
My wife, however, had taken a dislike to Miss Jeremy, and said that the
whole thing bored her.
“The men like it, of course,” she said, “Horace fairly simpers with
pleasure while he sits and holds her hand. But a woman doesn’t impose on
other women so easily. It’s silly.”
“My dear,” Mrs. Dane said, reaching over and patting my wife’s hand,
“people talked that way about Columbus and Galileo. And if it is
nonsense it is such thrilling nonsense!”