"That's what we've come here for, to see all about it," said Mrs. Mavis.

"My son, take pity on me and tell me what light your telegram throws,"
Mrs. Nettlepoint went on.

"I will, dearest, when I've quenched my thirst." And he slowly drained
his glass.

"Well, I declare you're worse than Gracie," Mrs. Mavis commented. "She
was first one thing and then the other--but only about up to three
o'clock yesterday."

"Excuse me--won't you take something?" Jasper inquired of Gracie; who
however still declined, as if to make up for her mother's copious
_consommation_. I found myself quite aware that the two ladies would do
well to take leave, the question of Mrs. Nettlepoint's good will being so
satisfactorily settled and the meeting of the morrow at the ship so near
at hand and I went so far as to judge that their protracted stay, with
their hostess visibly in a fidget, gave the last proof of their want of
breeding. Miss Grace after all then was not such an improvement on her
mother, for she easily might have taken the initiative of departure, in
spite of Mrs. Mavis's evident "game" of making her own absorption of
refreshment last as long as possible. I watched the girl with increasing
interest; I couldn't help asking myself a question or two about her and
even perceiving already (in a dim and general way) that rather marked
embarrassment, or at least anxiety attended her. Wasn't it complicating
that she should have needed, by remaining long enough, to assuage a
certain suspense, to learn whether or no Jasper were going to sail?
Hadn't something particular passed between them on the occasion or at the