a scrupulously gallant gentleman caught in a lapse of attention
to a lady. "Don't be disturbed," she said, benevolently.
"People aren't expected to listen all the time to their
relatives. A high colour's very becoming to you, Arthur; but it
really isn't necessary between cousins. You can always be
informal enough with us to listen only when you care to."

His complexion continued to be ruddier than usual, however,
throughout the meal, and was still somewhat tinted when Mrs.
Palmer rose. "The man's bringing you cigarettes here," she said,
nodding to the two gentlemen. "We'll give you a chance to do the
sordid kind of talking we know you really like. Afterwhile,
Mildred will show you what's in bloom in the hothouse, if you
wish, Arthur."

Mildred followed her, and, when they were alone in another of the
spacious rooms, went to a window and looked out, while her mother
seated herself near the center of the room in a gilt armchair,
mellowed with old Aubusson tapestry. Mrs. Palmer looked
thoughtfully at her daughter's back, but did not speak to her
until coffee had been brought for them.

"Thanks," Mildred said, not turning, "I don't care for any
coffee, I believe."

"No?" Mrs. Palmer said, gently. "I'm afraid our good-looking
cousin won't think you're very talkative, Mildred. You spoke
only about twice at lunch. I shouldn't care for him to get the
idea you're piqued because he's come here so little lately,
should you?"