"The Simpsons, for instance? It is true his father was a respectable
solicitor, and even Mayor of Devonport I have heard, but Mr.
Simpson's taste in _badinage_ is such as I cannot always approve.
It is very well in Troy here, where everybody knows them, but the
Goodwyn-Sandys are certain to be most particular, and, Lavinia, that
crimson gown of hers!"

"It _is_ bright," assented Miss Lavinia.

"And the Saunders! What a pity the girls cannot be invited without
the boys."

"The boys have always come before, Priscilla."

Miss Limpenny groaned. "To meet an Honourable, Lavinia!"

The leaven was working.

However, on the following Monday everybody was assembled in the
little drawing-room. The Vicar was there in evening dress; the
doctor and his wife; Mr. Simpson and Mrs. Simpson in the crimson
gown; the Saunders boys in carpet slippers (at sight of which Miss
Limpenny went hot and cold by turns); the Misses Buzza in
book-muslin, with ultramarine sashes and bronze shoes laced
sandal-wise; their mother in green satin and deadly terror lest the
Admiral's voice should penetrate the party-wall. Mr. Moggridge was
frowning gloomily in a corner at some humorous story of Sam Buzza's
telling. In short, with the exception of their Admiral, all Trojan
society had gathered to do honour to the new-comers.