I looked round the flowers at him. He seemed rather embarrassed, and said nothing. I filled Millicent’s glass, and turned to her.
“What do you think Bassishaw was saying to me just before you came in?”
I received a kick. Bassishaw, behind the flowers, was very red indeed.
“Heaven forbid that I should guess!” Millicent replied. “Men are frail creatures.”
“He was speaking,” I continued, “of women as a domestic institution. No home, he said, was complete without one. Considered decoratively, she gave an air of brightness----”
Bassishaw must have been as busy in his pedipulations as an organist, for Caroline peremptorily held out her glass to be replenished. I continued:
“As a companion, he said, much could be forgiven her. And she had admirable managing gifts.”
“The sex thanks you, Arthur,” she said. “It is quite the proper point of view for a young man. As for this belated bachelor,”--myself--“he never did, nor ever will, think rightly on the subject.”
“I didn’t mean--what you think I meant,” he said uncomfortably.
“Forgive me. You meant much more than I say I think you meant.”
“I meant--I meant----” he replied; and then, apologetically, “well, you _are_ getting on, you know, and you’ve missed so much, really, Rollo. If you _like_ being alone----A man who’s never--you don’t mind my saying it?--well, he doesn’t know, that’s all.”
Bassishaw subsided rather incoherently, but applied himself to his plate with conviction. I looked at Millicent, who glanced sidelong fun under her lids.
“What you say is perfectly convincing as a proposition, Arthur,” she remarked. “The man who’s Never--never does know; but the application is another matter. From report, there were hopes for Rollo Butterfield that he has failed to justify. He flirted notoriously.”
“Thank you, gracious lady,” I replied complacently, leaning back at my ease. “That is the name the world gives it.”
“Your conduct with Dolly Hemingway was shameless.”
“Marriage would certainly have been an illogical conclusion,” I admitted.
“Dear little Vi,” I approved. “Her conversation never did lack the relish of revelation. You must not suppose, Arthur, that I have not had the normal past that my years would guarantee. You appear to think so.”