Part 12 (1/2)

”What do you expect me to say? It is utterly preposterous. I have never heard anything so supremely absurd in my life.”

”You refuse?”

”Of course I refuse.”

”I think you are extremely foolish.”

”Indeed!”

Mr. Pett cowed in his chair. He was feeling rather like a nervous and peace-loving patron of a wild western saloon who observes two cowboys reach for their hip-pockets. Neither his wife nor his sister-in-law paid any attention to him. The concluding exercises of a duel of the eyes was in progress between them. After some silent, age-long moments, Mrs. Crocker laughed a light laugh.

”Most extraordinary!” she murmured.

Mrs. Pett was in no mood for Anglicisms.

”You know perfectly well, Eugenia,” she said heatedly, ”that James Crocker is being ruined here. For his sake, if not for mine--”

Mrs. Crocker laughed another light laugh, one of those offensive rippling things which cause so much annoyance.

”Don't be so ridiculous, Nesta! Ruined! Really! It is quite true that, a long while ago, when he was much younger and not quite used to the ways of London Society, James was a little wild, but all that sort of thing is over now. He knows”--she paused, setting herself as it were for the punch--”he knows that at any moment the government may decide to give his father a Peerage ...”

The blow went home. A quite audible gasp escaped her stricken sister.

”What!”

Mrs. Crocker placed two ringed fingers before her mouth in order not to hide a languid yawn.

”Yes. Didn't you know? But of course you live so out of the world.

Oh yes, it is extremely probable that Mr. Crocker's name will appear in the next Honours List. He is very highly thought of by the Powers. So naturally James is quite aware that he must behave in a suitable manner. He is a dear boy! He was handicapped at first by getting into the wrong set, but now his closest friend is Lord Percy Whipple, the second son of the Duke of Devizes, who is one of the most eminent men in the kingdom and a personal friend of the Premier.”

Mrs. Pett was in bad shape under this rain of t.i.tles, but she rallied herself to reply in kind.

”Indeed?” she said. ”I should like to meet him. I have no doubt he knows our great friend, Lord Wisbeach.”

Mrs. Crocker was a little taken aback. She had not supposed that her sister had even this small shot in her locker.

”Do you know Lord Wisbeach?” she said.

”Oh yes,” replied Mrs. Pett, beginning to feel a little better.

”We have been seeing him every day. He always says that he looks on my house as quite a home. He knows so few people in New York.

It has been a great comfort to him, I think, knowing us.”

Mrs. Crocker had had time now to recover her poise.

”Poor dear Wizzy!” she said languidly.

Mrs. Pett started.