FullReads

Mrs. Crashaw:“Oh, I don’t go to all of Agnes’s fandangoes. I was to have seen him at Mrs. Wheeler’s–he is being asked everywhere, of course–but he didn’t come. He sent his father and mother instead. They were very nice old people, but they hadn’t painted his pictures.”

Lawton:“They might say his pictures would never have been painted without them.”

Bemis:“It was like Heine’s going to visit Rachel by appointment. She wasn’t in, but her father and mother were; and when he met her afterwards he told her that he had just come from a show where he had seen a curious monster advertised for exhibition–the offspring of a hare and a salmon. The monster was not to be seen at the moment, but the showman said here was monsieur the hare and madame the salmon.”

Mrs. Roberts:“What in the world did Rachel say?”

Lawton:“Ah, that’s what these brilliant anecdotes never tell. And I think it would be very interesting to know what the victim of a witticism has to say.”

Mrs. Curwen:“I should think you would know very often, Doctor.”

Lawton:“Ah, now I should like to know what the victim of a compliment says!”

Mrs. Curwen:“He bows his thanks.” Dr. Lawton makes a profound obeisance, to which Mrs. Curwen responds in burlesque.

Miller: “We all envy you, Doctor.”

Mrs. Miller:“Oh yes. Mrs. Curwen never makes a compliment without meaning it.”

Mrs. Curwen:“I can’t say that quite, my dear. I should be very sorry to mean all the civil things I say. But I never flatter gentlemen of a certain age.”

Mrs. Miller, tittering ineffectively: “I shall know what to say to Mr. Miller after this.”

Mrs. Crashaw:“Well, if you haven’t got the man, Mrs. Somers, you have got his picture, haven’t you?”

Mrs. Somers:“Yes; it’s on my writing-desk in the library. Let me–“

Lawton:“No, no; don’t disturb yourself! We wish to tear it to pieces without your embarrassing presence. Will you take my arm, Mrs. Crashaw?”

Mrs. Bemis:“Oh, let us all go and see it!”

Roberts:“Aren’t you coming, Willis?”

Campbell, without looking round: “Thank you, I’ve seen it.”

Mrs. Somers, whom the withdrawal of her other guests has left alone with him: “How could you tell such a fib?”

Campbell:“I could tell much worse fibs than that in such a cause.”

Mrs. Somers:“What cause?”

Campbell:“A lost one, I’m afraid. Will you answer my question, Amy?”

Mrs. Somers:“Did you ask me any?”

Campbell:“You know I did–before those people came in.”

Mrs. Somers:“Oh, that! Yes. I should like to ask you a question first.”

Campbell:“Twenty, if you like.”

Mrs. Somers:“Why do you feel authorized to call me by my first name?”

Campbell:“Because I love you. Now will you answer me?”

Mrs. Somers, dreamily: “I didn’t say I would, did I?”

Campbell, rising, sadly: “No.”

Mrs. Somers, mechanically taking the hand he offers her: “Oh! What–“

Campbell:“I’m going; that’s all.”

Mrs. Somers:“So soon?”

Campbell:“Yes; but I’ll try to make amends by not coming back soon–or at all.”

Mrs. Somers:“You mustn’t!”

Campbell:“Mustn’t what?”

Mrs. Somers:“You mustn’t keep my hand. Here come some more people. Ah, Mrs. Canfield! Miss Bayly! So very nice of you, Mrs. Wharton! Will you have some tea?”

VII

[MRS. CANFIELD, MISS BAYLY, MRS. WHARTON, and the OTHERS]