"Well, we must put a good face on it for the present," said Lady
Tyrrell. "Don't on any account look as if you were not in perfect
accordance. You can show your sentiments afterwards, you know."

Cecil saw she must acquiesce, for Mrs. Tallboys was full in the
midst. With an infinitely better grace than her hostess, she
yielded herself to the sports, bowed charmingly to the Peri, whirled
like a fairy at the whistling, and was rewarded with a little enamel
padlock as a brooch, and two keys as ear-rings; indeed she
professed, with evident sincerity, that she was delighted with these
sports of the old country, and thought the two genies exquisite
specimens of the fair, useless, gentle English male aristocracy.

Mrs. Duncombe, too, accepted the inevitable with considerable spirit
and good-humour, though she had a little passage-at-arms with
Julius; when showing him the ivory card-case that had fallen to her
lot, she said, "So this is the bribe! Society stops the mouth of
truth."

"That is as you choose to take it," he said.

"Exactly. When we want to go deep into eternal verities you silence
us with frivolous din and dainty playthings for fear of losing your
slaves."

"I don't grant that."

"Then why hinder an earnest discussion by all this hubbub?"

"Because this was not the right place or time."