"Nellie, you remember your father throwing down that two pound ten on the table, and saying, 'Well, I'm----'" "No, mother, I don't. Do you think I could learn to hunt, Sir Harry?" "Of course you could, in no time." "Does Miss Delane?" "And Pratt said that if Hodge couldn't play the king at two pound ten a week,--though that's hard living, my dear,--I beg pardon--Colonel----" The Colonel bowed courteously. Nellie grew very red. "Why, bantam-cocks had risen since his day, and that was all about it." And Mrs. Hodge emptied her glass and beamed pleasantly on the company. Suddenly Dale Bannister began to laugh gently. Tora Smith turned an inquiring look in his direction. "What is it, Mr. Bannister?" "I saw your father's butler looking at my friend Mrs. Hodge." "What nonsense! Simmons is not allowed to look at anyone." "Isn't he? Why not?" "No good servant does." Dale smiled. "I know what you mean," Tora continued; "but surely while they're actually waiting, Mr. Bannister, we can't treat them quite like ourselves? At any other time, of course----" "You'd take a walk with them?" "They'd be horribly uncomfortable if I did," she answered, laughing. "That's the worst of it," said he. "Do you think us great shams?" "I have come to learn, not to criticise." "We want a leader," said Tora, with pretty earnestness. "Haven't you one?" "Sir Harry Fulmer is our leader, but we're not contented with him. He's a very mild Radical. Won't you come to our help?" "I expect I should be too extreme the other way." "Oh, I love people who are extreme--in my direction, I mean." "Well, then, try the Doctor." "Mr. Roberts? Oh, he's hardly prominent enough; we must have somebody of position. Now, what are you laughing at, Mr. Bannister?"