Theo is so
gentle and good, and he so splendid--I could have Tommy a lot
with--us----"
On the other hand, however, what if she went from bad to worse regarding
Joyselle? Would she be able to bear it?
Her thoughts turning the matter relentlessly over and over, as a
squirrel does his wheel, she came home, getting there just at tea-time.
Lady Kingsmead, very much bored with her guests, had her useful
headache, and the girl had to hurry into dry clothes, for the rain had
come on, and play hostess.
"Tea, M. Joyselle?"
He made a wry and very ludicrous face. "_Merci_, Lady Brigit!"
"French people always loathe tea, my dear," laughed the Duchess; "they
take it when they have colds, as we take quinine."
Miss Letchworth, who had been three times to Paris for a week at a time,
looked up from her embroidery. "Oh, _Duchess_! People of our class often
drink it," she protested, the only tea she had ever consumed in Paris
being that of her hotel or of Columbins, "don't they, mossoo?"
Joyselle's eyes drew down at the corners and he gave his big moustache a
martial, upward twist. "Ask others, mademoiselle," he retorted wickedly.
"I am not of your class!"
It was brutal, and there was a short silence.
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