"Ah, that would be more than I deserve," he answered quite gravely.

The little duel was over. She turned around, introduced him to Miss Dobell
and Puddifoot, both of whom, however, he had already met. He sat down,
very happily, near the fire and listened to Miss Dobell's shrill
proclamation of her adoration of Browning. Conversation became general,
and was concerned first with the Jubilee and the preparations for it,
afterwards with the state of South Africa, Lord Penrhyn's quarries, and
bicycling. Every one had a good deal to say about this last topic, and the
strange costumes which ladies, so the papers said, were wearing in
Battersea Park when out on their morning ride.

Miss Dobell said that "it was too disgraceful," to which Mrs. Combermere
replied "Fudge! As though every one didn't know by this time that women
had legs!"

Everything, in fact, went very well, although Ellen Stiles observed to
herself with a certain malicious pleasure that their hostess was not
entirely at her ease, was "a little ruffled, about something."

Soon two more visitors arrived--first Mr. Morris, then Mrs. Brandon. They
came close upon one another's heels, and it was at once evident that they
would, neither of them, alter very considerably the room's atmosphere. No
one ever paid any attention to Mrs. Brandon in Polchester, and although
Mr. Morris had been some time now in the town, he was so shy and retiring
and quiet that no one was, as yet, very distinctly aware of him. Mrs.
Combermere was occupied with her own thoughts and the others were talking
very happily beside the fire, so it soon happened that Morris and Mrs.
Brandon were sitting by themselves in the window.