"Nothing of any sort or kind whatever," snapped Mrs. Sykes, turning away
decidedly, to get a better light on her book, apparently, but really to
get rid of her hostess.

Mr. Ketchum, fearing to show indecent exultation when the carriages were
announced, repressed the satisfaction that would have expressed itself in
gay speeches of farewell. A decorous exit was made; and as they rolled
away he gave a great sigh of relief, and exclaimed, "I haven't had as much
fun since I had the measles. Mussiful Powers! what an evening! I feel like
the boy whose mother gave him a good beating for his own sake. But all the
same I shall have a word to say to Mrs. Sykes tomorrow; and of course I
shall have to apologize for her behavior to Richardson."

"Most insolent, unpardonable conduct, I call it," said Sir Robert. "She's
an innately vulgar woman."

"Puts on an awful lot of side. I can't stand her. She gives me the jumps.
And she can tell a buster, too, when she likes: I have found that out,"
put in Mr. Ramsay.

"Well, I don't exactly hanker to be cast away on a desert island with her,
even supposing I was one of the royal dukes and had taken the precaution
of being introduced while we were tying on the life preservers, in case of
accidents," said Mr. Ketchum.

What he said to Mrs. Sykes next morning no one ever knew but the discreet
Mabel. Not much, probably, but that little was so much to the point that
it had a decided effect,--two of them, indeed, one interior, the other
external. It increased her respect for him, and it made her perfectly