'He's very amusing,' continued Bruce. 'He said a very funny thing to me the other day. Very funny indeed. It's no use repeating it, because unless you knew all the circumstances and the _characters_ of the people that he told the story of, you wouldn't see the point. Perhaps, after all, I'd better ask him to dine at the club.' 'Oh no! Let him come here. Don't you think I'm worthy to see Raggett?' 'Oh nonsense, dear, I'm very proud of you,' said Bruce kindly. 'It isn't exactly that.... Mind you, Raggett's quite a man of the world--and yet he _isn't_ a man of the world, if you know what I mean.' 'I see,' said Edith again. 'I can't decide whether to ask him here or not,' said Bruce, walking up and down the room in agitation. 'Well, suppose we leave it till tomorrow. You can make up your mind then,' she said good-naturedly. Edith was dressed, when she found Bruce still in the throes of an agitated toilet. Having lost his collar-stud, he sat down and gave himself up to cold despair. 'You go without me,' he said in a resigned voice. 'Explain the reason--no, don't explain it. Say I've got influenza--but then perhaps they'll think you ought to look after me, and--' 'Here it is!' said Edith. In the cab he recovered suddenly, and told her she looked awfully pretty, which cheered her very much. She was feeling rather tired. She had spent several hours in the nursery that day, pretending to be a baby giraffe with so much success that Archie had insisted upon countless encores, until, like all artists who have to repeat the same part too often, she felt the performance was becoming mechanical. CHAPTER VII Hyacinth's Little Dinner 'The little Ottleys,' as they were called (they were a tall, fine-looking couple), found themselves in a small circle of people who were all most pleasing to the eye, with the single exception of Miss Yeo. And even she, in a markedly elegant dress of a peculiarly vicious shade of green, had her value in the picture. A little shocked by the harshness of the colour, one's glance turned with relief to Hyacinth, in satin of a blue so pale that it looked like the reflection of the sky in water. A broad, pale blue ribbon was wound in and out of her brown hair in the Romney fashion. Of course she looked her best. Women always do if they wish to please one man when others are there, and she was in the slightly exalted frame of mind that her reflection in the mirror had naturally given her. The faint atmosphere of chaperonage that always hung about Sir Charles in Hyacinth's house did not interfere with his personal air of enjoying an escapade, nor with his looking distinguished to the very verge of absurdity. As to Cecil, the reaction from his disappointment of the afternoon had made him look more vivid than usual. He was flushed with failure.