I'd rather have my head cut off than wear flannel next the skin.) Then
there's a nice shy girl--poor thing--I wish one could rake her out
before it's too late. She has quite nice eyes and hair, only, of course,
she'll get funny too. We ought to start a society for broadening the
minds of the young--much more useful than missionaries, Hester! Oh, I'd
forgotten there's a dreadful little thing called Pepper. He's just like
his name. He's indescribably insignificant, and rather queer in
his temper, poor dear. It's like sitting down to dinner with an
ill-conditioned fox-terrier, only one can't comb him out, and sprinkle
him with powder, as one would one's dog. It's a pity, sometimes, one
can't treat people like dogs! The great comfort is that we're away from
newspapers, so that Richard will have a real holiday this time. Spain
wasn't a holiday. . . .
"You coward!" said Richard, almost filling the room with his sturdy
figure.
"I did my duty at dinner!" cried Clarissa.
"You've let yourself in for the Greek alphabet, anyhow."
"Oh, my dear! Who _is_ Ambrose?"
"I gather that he was a Cambridge don; lives in London now, and edits
classics."
"Did you ever see such a set of cranks? The woman asked me if I thought
her husband looked like a gentleman!"
"It was hard to keep the ball rolling at dinner, certainly," said
Richard. "Why is it that the women, in that class, are so much queerer
than the men?"
"They're not half bad-looking, really--only--they're so odd!"
They both laughed, thinking of the same things, so that there was no
need to compare their impressions.
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