" And
Amelia was to be married off to--"Well, if you turn your head, my dear,
you'll see who. Back there, helping to hold up the doorpost."
Under cover of Zara's roulades Mary cautiously looked round. It was
Henry's partner--young Grindle, now on the threshold of the thirties.
His side-whiskers a shade less flamboyant than of old, a heavy watch-chain
draped across his front, Grindle stood and lounged with his hands
in his pockets.
Mary made round eyes. "Oh, but Tilly!. . . isn't it very risky? He's so
much younger than she is. Suppose she shouldn't be happy?"
"That'll be all right, Mary, trust me. Only give 'er a handle to 'er
name, and Amelia 'ud be happy with any one. She hasn't THAT much
backbone in 'er. Besides, my dear, you think, she's over forty! Let her
take 'er chance and be thankful. It isn't every old maid 'ud get such an
offer."
"And is . . . is HE agreeable?" asked Mary, still unconvinced.
Tilly half closed her right eye and protruded the tip of her tongue.
"You could stake your last fiver on it, he is!"
But now that portion of the entertainment devoted to art was at an end,
and the serious business of the evening began. Card-tables had been set
out--for loo, as for less hazardous games. In principle, Mahony
objected to the high play that was the order of the day; but if you
invited people to your house you could not ask them to screw their
points down from crowns to halfpence. They would have thanked you kindly
and have stayed at home.
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