"Do tell us some more, Daisy," Hilda implored weakly.
"There is no more," said Daisy, and then started: "Oh, Mr. Clayhanger! How long have you been there?"
He entered the room, yielding himself, proud, masculine, acutely aware of his sudden effect on these girls. For even Hilda was naught but a girl at the moment; and Janet was really a girl, though the presence of that shy niece, just awaking to her own body and to the world, made Janet seem old in spite of her slimness and of that smoothness of skin that was due to a tranquil, kind temperament. The shy niece was enchantingly constrained upon being introduced to Edwin, whom she was enjoined to call uncle. Only yesterday she must have been a child. Her marvellously clear complexion could not have been imitated by any aunt or elder sister.
"And now perhaps you’ll tell me what it’s all about," said Edwin.
"Janet’s called about tennis. It seems they’re sick of the new Hillport Club. I knew they would be. And so next year Janet’s having a private club on her lawn----"
"Where the entire conversation won’t be remarks by girls about other girls’ frocks and remarks by men about the rotten inferiority of other men."
"This is all very sound," said Edwin, rather struck by Hilda’s epigrammatic quality. "But what I ask is--what were you laughing at?"
"Very well then," said Edwin, going to the door and shutting it. "Nobody leaves this room till I know.... Now, niece Elaine!"
Elaine went crimson and squirmed on her only recently hidden legs, but she did not speak.
"It was only about Alec Batchgrew, Mr. Clayhanger; I suppose you know him."
Alec was the youngest scion of the great and detested plutocratic family of Batchgrew,--enormously important in his nineteen years.
"Yes, I know him," said Edwin. "I saw him on his new grey horse this morning."
"His ’orse," Janet corrected. They all began to laugh again loudly.
"He’s taken a terrific fancy to Maud, my kiddie sister," said Daisy. "She’s sixteen. Yesterday afternoon at the tennis club he said to Maud: ’Look ’ere. I shall ride through the town to-morrow morning on my ’orse, while you’re all marketing. I shan’t take any notice of any of the other girls, but if you bow to me I’ll take my ’at off to you.’" She imitated the Batchgrew intonation.