"Some people from the barracks--Colonel Tapp, and Mr. Frampton, the man who hunted through all those papers the other day to find the paragraph you asked him about, don't you know; a Mr. Boyd, a good-looking fair-haired boy, with an eyeglass, one of the Ross-shire Boyds, who is reading somewhere in the neighbourhood with a tutor; the Biscoes, the Porters--people who live at those iron gates with the griffins which I showed you; and--I don't know--two or three others." "Oh, heavens, what a cheerful prospect! I hate the army, and I detest good-looking boys with eyeglasses; and I've been all day with Mr. Biscoe, and I don't know the griffin people, nor the two or three others. Look here, Margaret, why don't you ask Mr. Joyce to dinner?" "Mr. Joyce? I don't know---- Good heavens, Caroline, you don't mean Lord Hetherington's secretary?" "I do indeed, Margaret--why shouldn't I? He is quite nice and gentlemanly, and has charming eyes." "Caroline, I wonder at your talking such nonsense. You ought to know me sufficiently----" "And you ought to know me sufficiently to understand there's nothing on earth I detest like being bored. I shall be bored out of my life by any of the people you have mentioned, while I'm sure I should find some amusement in Mr. Joyce." "You might probably find a great deal of amusement in Norton, the steward, or in William, my footman; but you would scarcely wish me to ask them to dinner?" "I think not--not in William, at all events. There is a dull decorum about Mr. Norton which one might find some fun in bearing----" "Caroline, be quiet; you are _impayable_. Are you really serious in what you say about Mr. Joyce?" "Perfectly--why not? I had some talk with him in the library the other day, and found him most agreeable." "Well, then, I will send and say we expect him; will that satisfy you? "No, certainly not! Seriously, Margaret, for one minute. You know that I was only in fun, and that it cannot matter one atom to me whether this young man is asked to join your party or not. Only, if you _do_ ask him, don't send. You know the sort of message which the footman would deliver, no matter what formula had been intrusted to him; and I should be very sorry to think that Mr. Joyce, or any other gentleman, should be caused a mortification through any folly of mine." "Perhaps you think I ought to go to him and offer him a verbal invitation?" "Certainly, if you want him at all--I mean, if you intend asking him to dinner. You'll be sure to find him in the library. Now, I'm dying to get rid of this soaked habit and this clinging skirt! So I'm off to dress." And Lady Caroline Mansergh gave her sister-in-law a short nod, and left the room.