"Thunderstorms always are simultaneous with sombreness," he said, "and I sometimes wonder whether it is our sombreness that produces the storm or the storm that produces sombreness. Every one has been sombre to-day, except, perhaps, you, Tom, and the merry widow."
"I don't know of any other. Lady Nottingham isn't merry. I can't think how you manage to produce so much impression with so little material. I have to talk all the time to produce an impression at all, and then it is usually an unfortunate one."
"I think your description of Mrs. Halton as the merry widow is a particularly unfortunate one," remarked Lindfield.
"I know. It was characteristic of you if not of her. You always see people in--in caricature. Besides, I thought Mrs. Halton was anything but merry."
"Because you have spent the entire day with her, chiefly _tête-à-tête_. Also yesterday."
Tom Lindfield was apparently not in a very genial frame of mind to-night. He let this remark pass in silence, and then went back to what Jim had previously said.
"You always talk a good lot of rot, old chap," he said, "and I want to know if you were talking rot when you said something about my producing an impression with little material. It sounds pretty good rot, but if you meant something by it, I wish you would tell me what it was. Does it have any special application?"
"Yes, certainly. I referred to your 'Veni, vidi, vici' with Mrs. Halton. You laid firm hold of her yesterday, and have not let her go since. I don't imply that she has wanted to go."
Jim, in spite of the large quantities of outrageous nonsense which he often talked, had a very fair allowance of brains, and when he chose to talk sense was worth listening to. So, at any rate, Tom Lindfield thought now.
"I wish you'd go on," he said, "and just tell me all that is in your mind."
"By all means, if you promise not to knock me down or anything. It's just this--that we've all been asking ourselves, 'Is it to be the aunt or the niece?'"
"And who has been asking themselves that?" asked Lindfield.
"Oh, everybody except, perhaps, Braithwaite and poor wandering Willie. Mrs. Beaumont and Lady Sybil were hard at it when you and Mrs. Halton strolled out after dinner. They tore Mrs. Halton open as you tear open a--a registered envelope. With the same greed, you understand."