There was a pause, during which she noticed a suspicion of powder on his face, and he felt dissatisfied because she didn't seem to be going to entertain him. The band struck up a waltz. "Do you dance?" he said, looking down from her face to her feet. "Not in the afternoon," she answered. The dance had begun, and a pair came whirling down toward them. Evadne moved back to be out of the way, and Menteith, looking round for a partner, saw Mrs. Guthrie Brimston opposite smiling at him. He went over to her. "Well, what do you make of the bride?" she asked. "Her conversation is not exactly animated," he answered, looking into Mrs. Guthrie Brimston's face intently. She was a round, flat-faced, high-hipped, high-shouldered woman, short in the body, and tight-laced; and she had a trick of wagging her skirts and perking at a man when talking to him. She did so now, nodding and smiling in a way that made her speech piquant with the suggestion that she thought or knew a great deal more than she meant to say. "You have made her acquaintance, I suppose?" Menteith added. "Oh, yes," she answered. "Her husband is an old friend of ours, you know, so Bobbie thought we ought to call at once." The tone in which she spoke suggested that she and "Bobbie" merely meant to tolerate Mrs. Colquhoun for her husband's sake. "Bobbie" was Major Guthrie Brimston, a very useful little man to his wife by way of reference. When she wanted to say a smart thing which might or might not be considered objectionable, according to the taste of the person she addressed--and she very often did--she always presented it as a quotation from him. "Bobbie thinks," she added now, "that if there were an Order of the Silent Sewing Machine, Mrs. Colquhoun would be sure to be a distinguished member of it." A Royal personage whom Evadne had met at home recognized her at this moment, and shook hands with her with somewhat effusive cordiality, making a remark to which she responded quietly. "She seems to be a pretty self-possessed young woman, too," Menteith observed. "Her composure is perfect." "Ah!" Mrs. Guthrie Brimston ejaculated; "those stupid people have no nerves! Now, _I_ should shake all over in such a position!"