Octavia Bassett is so young that"--

"May I ask," inquired Lady Theobald, in fell tones, "how old you are?"

"I was nineteen in--in December."

"Miss Octavia Bassett," said her ladyship, "was nineteen last October,
and it is now June. I have not yet found it necessary to apologize for
you on the score of youth."

But it was her ladyship who took the initiative, and set an evening for
entertaining Miss Belinda and her niece, in company with several other
ladies, with the best bohea, thin bread and butter, plum-cake, and
various other delicacies.

"What do they do at such places?" asked Octavia. "Half-past five is
pretty early."

"We spend some time at the tea-table, my dear," explained Miss Belinda.
"And afterward we--we converse. A few of us play whist. I do not. I feel
as if I were not clever enough, and I get flurried too easily by--by
differences of opinion."

"I should think it wasn't very exciting," said Octavia. "I don't fancy
I ever went to an entertainment where they did nothing but drink tea,
and talk."

"It is not our intention or desire to be exciting, my dear," Miss Belinda
replied with mild dignity. "And an improving conversation is frequently
most beneficial to the parties engaged in it."