McTaggart held her pretty hand in his beyond the orthodox time.
"Perhaps," he asked, "you'd come for a spin now and then in my car?"
The speech was not without malice. She saw his slightly guilty look and laughed outright.
"I understand--I was young once myself, you see."
"Aunt Elizabeth--you're a brick!" He dared the familiarity with his charming smile.
"Well--of all the impertinence!" her thin cheeks flushed a little. "We'll see. I make no rash promises. I shall try and get to Mary on Friday."
"I'm glad now poor Edward's gone. It's a bad business for the children."
McTaggart felt immensely sorry. He saw she took it keenly to heart.
"I suppose"--his voice was very gentle--"you wouldn't care..." he hesitated--"to come and dine with me to-night--if you're disengaged--have nothing better? I'm only just back from abroad and find so many friends away. Won't you take pity on my loneliness?"
The little lady was inwardly flattered, but she laughed aside the invitation.
"Nonsense!--it's very kind, I'm sure ... but you don't want an old woman like me!"
"I do"--he smiled back at her. "Say you will?" He saw her glance furtively at the clock beyond. "There's loads of time--I'll change and return to fetch you. What about a theatre?"
"Well ... then--some quiet place without a band. As it happens I have a good ear for music and I won't risk my digestion by swallowing to Tango time! And--Marie Tempest, for choice--there's no nonsense about her!"
Her voice was brisk. "I'm tired of having sermons preached at me from the stage, or so-called 'Comedies'--which are nothing but an excuse for extravagant dress. I want to be amused, you see, not stunned by mere colour and light, and rows of common, simpering girls advertising for a husband."
With a characteristic gesture she straightened the wayward brown fringe.
"In _my_ young days we went to the play to see people really _act_. But now everyone's attention is riveted on the production! A sort of marionette show in which the performers seem to count as auxiliaries to the epigrams parcelled out by the author. You don't hear people praise the art of the actor. Oh, dear, no. It's: 'Isn't it well put on?' or 'Aren't the dresses simply _sweet_?'"
"There's a great deal in what you say. Well, I'll be back within the hour. I'm so glad you can come." He foresaw that the evening might prove a quaint experience in the company of his new friend with her sharp eyes and caustic tongue.