Mrs. Mesurier responded sympathetically; and then, by way of making
himself pleasant, Mr. Clegg suddenly broke in with such an extraordinary
amenity of old-world gallantry that everybody's hair stood on end.

"How old do you be?" he said, bowing to the new-comer.

"I beg your pardon," said Mrs. Turtle, putting her hand to her ear; "but
I'm slightly deaf."

"How old do you be?" shouted the old man.

Though not unnaturally taken aback at such an unwonted conception of
conversational intercourse, Mrs. Turtle recovered herself with
considerable humour, and, bridling, with an old-world shake of her
head, said,--

"What would you take me for?"

"I should say you were seventy, if you're a day," promptly answered the
old man.

"Oh, dear, no!" replied Mrs. Turtle, with some pique; "I was only sixty
last January."

"Well, you carry your age badly," retorted the old man, not to be
beaten.

"What does he say, my dear?" said the poor old lady turning to Mrs.
Mesurier.