Poor old pussums, however, declined these advances, and took up her position on the other side of her mistress's ample skirts; whence for some time she glared distrustfully at every fresh manifestation of Mrs. Simpson's playful vivacity. "Well, for goodness' sake tell us the point, if there is one!" cried Mr. Weatherhead, who had been irritably rubbing his nose during this episode. "Ah! Naughty impatience! That is so like a gentleman! Gentlemen are dreadfully impatient in general; don't you agree with me, Mrs. Dobbs? However, it really will be quite a musical treat. Mr. Cleveland Turner is one of the most rising musicians of the day; I believe nobody can understand his compositions without severe preliminary training. Mr. Sweeting, too, is _most_ amiable; he has taken a country house in the neighbourhood. And Miss Piper has invited a young lady down to stay with her who sings divinely--quite divinely, Miss Piper says; and, indeed, I have no doubt she does, for I _saw_ her name mentioned in the _Morning Post_ at a very aristocratic _soirée_. And Bassy and I are to be invited!" "Are you, now? Well, I'm glad of it," said Mrs. Dobbs heartily. She knew this was a distinction which would give her friends pleasure. "Yes; Bassy is to accompany the young lady's songs on the piano. Mr. Cleveland Turner will not accompany;--or, at least, not anything of a tuneful sort. He doesn't like it. Well, you know, there's no accounting for tastes, is there? Most people think strawberries delicious. But I _have_ known a person who couldn't touch them--_invariably_ produced a rash!" With which lucid illustration Mrs. Simpson rose, and declared she must positively be going. After an effusive leavetaking--in the course of which the old tabby leaped on to the back of Mrs. Dobbs's chair, where she sat arching her spine and growling--the good lady set forth on her way down the little garden-path in front of the house. But scarcely had she reached the gate, when she turned and tripped back again with a girlish step, which neither increase of years nor flesh had much sobered. "I never delivered my message," she said; "and really it is an extraordinary instance of my absence of mind, for that was the chief reason why I came at all at this hour. I was at Mrs. Bransby's about four o'clock, and left our dear Miranda there." Here she paused so long that Mrs. Dobbs replied, "Yes; I knew May was going to call there." "Now I dare say you will scarcely credit it," said Amelia, with her head on one side, her spectacles glistening, and an arch smile illumining her countenance, "but, for the moment, I had totally forgotten again what I was going to say!" "Lord bless the woman!" muttered Jo Weatherhead, in a tone not, perhaps, quite so inaudible as politeness required.